CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(■Monographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographles) 


Canadian  Instituta  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


D 
D 


IT] 

a 


n 


n 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommag^e 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaur^e  et/ou  pellicul^e 

Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  \rk  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Reli§  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  Edition  disponibie 


□  Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de 
I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int^rieure. 


Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  Use  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajout^es  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  ^t6  film^es. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilmd  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique.  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifteation  dans  la  m^tho- 
de  nomnale  de  filmage  sont  indiqu^s  ci-dessous. 

I     I  Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I I  Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommag^es 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul^es 


Q  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  dteolor^s,  tachet^es  ou  piques 

I      I   Pages  detached  /  Pages  d^tach^es 

I  -^\  Showthrough / Transparence 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies  / 


D 


Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  totalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc.,  ont  ^td  film^es  k  nouveau  de  fa9on  k 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayant  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
film^es  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


m 


'M 


This  Item  Is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below  / 

Ce  document  est  film4  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  cl-dessous. 


lOX 

14x 

18x 

22x 

26X 

30k 

12x 


16x 


20x 


24x 


28x 


32x 


Th*  copy  filmed  h«r«  has  b««n  raproducad  thank* 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

Lakehead  University, 
Chancellor  Paterson  Library, 
Thunder  Bay 

Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apacificationa. 


L'axamplaira  filmi  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
ginirositi  da: 

Lakehead  University, 
Chancellor  Paterson  Library, 
Thunder  Bay 

Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  AtA  raproduites  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  I'axamplaira  film*,  at  tn 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copias  in  printod  papar  covars  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impraa- 
sion.  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  imprasaion. 


Las  axamplairas  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  tn 
papiar  ast  imprimia  sont  filmis  an  commancant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  antprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  filmis  an  commandant  par  la 
pramiira  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainte 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 


Tha  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  ^^'  (maaning  "CON- 
TINUED'),  or  tha  symbol  y  (maaning  'END"), 
whiehavar  appliaa. 

Maps,  platas.  charts,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  sxposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  taft  hand  cornar.  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Un  das  symbolas  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darniira  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  •**•  signifia  "A  SUIVRE'  ,  la 
symbola  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 

Laa  cartaa,  planchas.  tablaaux.  ate.  peuvant  iut 
filmis  A  das  taux  da  reduction  diffArents. 
Lorsqua  la  document  ast  trop  grand  pour  atra 
raproduit  9n  un  saul  clichd.  il  ast  filmA  i  partir 
da  I'angla  supiriaur  gaucha.  da  gaucha  A  droits. 
at  da  haut  an  bas,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagaa  nicassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
illustrant  la  mithoda. 


1 

2 

3 

1  2  3 

4  5  6 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION  TiST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No   2) 


1.0 


I.I 


2.2 


3.2 
3.6 

4.0 


2.0 


1.8 


A  APPLIED  INA^GE    Inc 

^^  1653   East   Mam   Street 

r-S  Rochester.   Ne«   rork        14609       USA 

ja  (716)   482  -  0300  -  Phone 

SSS  (716)   288  -  5989  -  Fa« 


i 


i   ^  \ 


-  r-l 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  VERSE 


^      yr<rac^  CttuJi^  /VrJV- 


French-Canadian 
Verse 


Written  and  Illustrated 

by 

WILLIAM  EDWARD  BAUBIE 


PHortwTf  or 

^RT  ARTHUR.  " 


French-Canadian  Verse 

written  and  iltuttratcd 
by 

William  Edward  Baubie 

Published  by 

Tlie  Lalceside  Presa 

Chicago 


Copyright,  1917 

by 

William  Edward  Baubie 

I'Qreign  Cofiynghf.'i 
Rtstr'.'fti 


To  my  most  respected 

son-in-law 

WILLIAM  Alexander  McLaughlin 

of  Chicago,  Illinois, 

these  verses  are  dedicated 

with  sincere  admiration 

and  affection 


^rencf>^Canadiar\  Versa- 


r 


CONTENTS 

The  Rosie  Belle  Teeneau 1 

The  Musk-rat  8 

My  Old  Canoe 11 

Down  in  Old  Quebec  14 

The  Courrier 18 

A  Strange  Romance 20 

Dinner  a  la  Carte 26 

Joe  Lozon,  the  Pot-hunter  Man      ....  29 

Genealogy  of  Batteece  Tourangeau       ...  33 
Ah'U  Nevaire  Go  Hunt  for  de  Mush-rat   No 

More 37 

A  Story  of  the  Marsh 40 

My  Dear  Old  Dad           .......  43 

Old-time  Fishing  on  Detroit  River ....  44 

The  Man  at  the  Bow  .48 

A  Lesson  in  Table  Manners 51 

The  Race  at  Petit  Cote 55 

My  Dog  Francois 60 

A  Legend  of  the  Detroit  River 64 

The  Habitant's  Lament        71 


I 


J        yr0ncf\Can>.^iat\  VorsQ- 


Iff 


=ssr 


PREFACE 

THESE  French-Canadian  poems  were  selected 
from  a  number  that  the  author  has  written 
from  time  to  time  and  are  those  that  are 
more  easily  read  and  understood  by  the  average 
English-speaking  person. 

There  is  really  no  such  uniformity  of  dialect 
among  the  "habitants"  that  could  be  followed 
with  any  degree  of  certainty.  Every  French- 
Canadian  has  his  or  her  own  peculiar  method  of 
expression  in  the  use  cf  the  English  language. 
Some  have  difficulty  in  the  use  of  the  pronoun, 
some  again  speak  the  English  fluently  and  almost 
faultlessly,  and  it  is  only  on  rare  occasions  that  a 
slight  misuse  of  a  word  or  expiession  exposes  their 
origin  to  the  close  observer;  but  the  remaining  and 
more  numerous  class  go  battling  along  through 
the  verbs,  pronouns,  and  adjectives  at  will — un- 
affectedly but  ruthlessly. 

These  verses  are,  therefore,  not  offered  as  a  cri- 
terion of  the  French-Canadian  dialect,  but  merely 
the  English  used  by  some  of  the  types  that  the 
writer  has  observed  and  known. 

Many  years  of  the  writer's  life  were  spent  in 
old  Quebec  and  Montreal,  where  he  was  thrown  in 
personal  contact  with  the  "habitants,"  young  and 
old;  and  his  close  association  with  them  ripened 
from  mere  acquaintance  into  friendship,  and,  later, 

[XV] 


I 


into  affectionate  regard.  It  was,  however,  in  the 
rural  districts  and  upon  the  lakes,  rivers,  and 
marshes  of  Canada  and  the  bordering  territories, 
where  the  writer  has  fished  and  hunted,  that  he 
has  heard  the  real  Canadian  patois  spoken,  as 
only  one  may  hear  it,  and  these  humble  efforts 
are  mainly  the  result  of  such  travel. 

Many  of  the  characters  about  whom  these 
stories  are  told  existed  in  real  life,  and  the  old 
inhabitants  of  the  localities  mentioned  will  recall 
them;  and  many  of  the  occurrences  related  have 
in  reality  happened. 

The  writer  begs  to  say,  in  closing,  that  these 
verses  are  furnished  by  him  as  a  means  of  enter- 
tainment and  amusement,  and  it  is  not  his -desire 
or  intention  to  ridicule  or  discredit  those  of  the 

old  French-Canadian  blood. 

The  Author. 


LEGEND  OF  THE 
ROSIE  BELLE  TEENEAU 

DE  Rosie  Belle   Teeneau  was  'van  vere    fine 
batteau, 
Was  steam  barge  Hon  de  reever,  good  many  year 

ago. 
She  always  looked  so  neat,  wid  de  beeg  moskeeto 

tieet, 
An  Ah'U  tole  you,  mah  boy,  she  was  hard  boat  to 
beat. 

Down  de  reever  if  you  geev  her  a  good  chance  to  go 
From  Isle  au  Peche  a'jove,  to  Pointe  Peelee  below. 
An  if  de  wind  she  blow  hon  her  stem  from  behaind 
Shees  beat  all  de  vassalle  an  de  boat  you  can  faind. 

Jean  Batteece  DuChene  was  de  captaine  of  dat 

barge; 
Hees  not  so  vere  small,  an  hees  not  so  vere  large. 
But  hees  tick-set  an  chaunkay,  he  go  two  hunnard 

poun, 
An  way  it  in  de  stocken,  if  hees  got  som  stocken 

hon. 


I- 


Batteece  wife,  an  bote  hees  boy,  an  Angelique  hees 

dauter, 
Was  de  bes  crew  of  de  Rosie  Belle,  v»en  she  go  hon 

de  water. 
Each  wan  dat  crew  could  maike  de  cook,  or  trow 

de  hank  also, 
Could^run  de  hengine  down  below,  or  maike  de 

wissel  blow. 


From  summer  tarn  up  to  de  fall,  Batteece  dont 
wear  no  shoe  at  all; 


&       Jranefy  ■  Caradiai\  Verso- 


1 
I 


JEAN  BATTEECE  DU  CHENE 


Som-tam  for  style  he  wear  som  pant,  som-tam  som 

overhaul. 
An  when  he  prominade  de  deck,  wid  hees  uniforme 

allhon,  t  -1      J 

Mon  Dieul  dat's  grande!  he  look  joust  laike  de 
great  Napoleon. 

"Mah   bes   crew   is   mah   familee,"   Batteece   he 

always  say,  ....      j    r 

When  all  de  work  was  finish,  hon  de  hmd  end  ot 

de  day.  ,     .      ,.      j 

"Ah  smoke  de  pipe  so  ezay,  as  Ah  m  laying  hon  de 

bed;  .    d    •  . 

For  Ah  know  if  we  lose  monay  hon  de  Rosie,  we  re 

ahead." 

[2] 


^P> 


Ill 


I 


.1 

r 


^ranc^-CutaJiat]  Verso- 


Wan  naight  dey  stop  at  Druiliard's  dock,  for  taike 

wan  barl  away; 
It  might  be  feesh,  it  might  be  pork,  no  wan  on 

board  can  say. 
Was  tickette  hon  dat  barl  wat  say  she  go  to  Pete 

Marcotte 
Wat  keep  de  sailor  boarding-hous  at  Ecorse  near 

Wyandotte. 

Dere's  no  plaice  Y  "<n  de  water,  every  sailor  man  will 

say. 
Where  de  wind  she  blow,  an  blow  so  hard,  as  hon 

de  Ecorse  Bay. 
De  naight  he  taike  dat  barl  hon  board,  she  blow  an 

blow  som  more; 
It  look  joust  laike  beeg  tomadeau  was  coming 

doun  de  shore. 

Batteece  aint  got  de  educate,  but  he  notice  raight- 

away 
Hees  hav  wan  hell-of-a-tam  dat  naight  in  crossing 

Ecorse  Bay. 
"How  many  man  we  got  hon  board?"  he  ask  de 

hengineer. 
"Dere's  tree  below";  an  Batteece  say,  "Send  haf- 

a-dem  up  here." 

"Clar  de  deck!"  Batteece  he  spik.    "Taike  doun  de 

smok-stack  too. 
An  trow  de  hank  as  fas  you  can,  dat's  de  bes  ting 

you  can  do." 
"We  got  no  tring,"  de  mate  he  sing,  "so  de  hank 

aint  work  so  well," 
Den  Batteece  yell,  "Sai,  who  de  hell  is  de  boss  of 

dees  vassalle?" 


"h        yrgncf\- CamJiaiy  Verso- 
»  igr~ 


De  naight  was  black  wen  de  storm  attack  de  Rosie 

Belle  Teeneau; 
She  hit  her  hard  above,  below,  she  hit  her  in  de  mid 

also. 
De  lightning  flash  an  hit  dat  barl,  an  maike  de 

noise  much  louder. 
For  debarl  bust  up  de  Rosie  Belle, — it's  chock-full 

of  gun-pauder. 


Batteece  was  sitting  hon  dat  barl,  when  she  go  off 

for  fair. 
He  hav  no  tam  for  shew  de  rag,  for  he  fly  up  in  de 

air; 
An  de  wind  she  blow  hon  Ecorse  Bay,  she  blow 

lackell  som  more. 
An  de  Rosie  Belle,  she  don  feel  well,  shee's  haf  mile 

from  de  shore. 

Madame  DuChene  she  go  insane,  an  jaump  doun 

hon  de  water; 
De  only  life  preserve  was  grab  by  Angelique,  hee^ 

dauter. 
An  bote  de  boy  was  dive  away  from  de  Rosie  Belle 

Teeneau. 
Dey  joust  hav  tam  for  save  its-self  before  she  sink 

below. 


Jules  Tourangeau,  wat  spear  de  frog,  an  leeve  doun 

hon  de  mash. 
Was  bring  hees  yawl,  he  hear  de  call,  he  also  hear 

de  splash , 
He  find  de  wife  an  bote  de  boy,  he  also  find  de 

dauter; 
An  soon  he  can  grab  hold-o-dem,  he  pull  it  out  de 

water. 


iP^ '^'      :>r.ncX^^er,»,.     "g^^'"^ ^% 


•r 

1 


Now  if  you  go  to  Ecorse  Bay,  de  ole  tarn  habitant 

will  say 
Dat  if  som  of  de  skeetow  fleet  was  sailing  doun  dat 

way, 
Dey  pass  a  long,  long  wt  v  around  de  Rosie  Belle's 

last  sleeping  ground: 
De  sailors  fear,  from  wat  dey  hear,  dat  Batteece 

goste  she  proul  around. 

An  wen  de  naight  was  dark  down  dere,  all  de  fisher- 
man dey  swear 

Dat  Batteece  an  de  Rosie  Belle  was  sailing  hon  de 
air; 

You  can  see  mirage,  also  de  barge,  an  you  also  see 
de  wreck 

Wile  Jean  Batteece  geev  two-tree  cheer,  as  he 
prominade  de  deck. 

Wen  dees  mirage  was  pass  away,  it's  quiet  roun  de 
Ecorse  Bay; 

De  naight  wind  moan,  de  bull-frog  groan,  in  de 
vere  sam  ole  way; 

De  snap  an  maud-hen  trai  to  rest  in  de  weed  long- 
side  de  shore; 

Dey  hav  no  fun,  for  de  potter's  gun  was  maike  dem 
fly  som  more. 

Dey  look  for  Batteece  high  an  low,  for  two-tree 

year  or  more. 
But  no  wan  find  hees  boday  or  de  clothes  de 

captaine  wore, 
Till  wan  fine  day  hon  Ecorse  Bay,  Joe  Lozon  it 

was  pass  dat  way — 
Find  Batteece  spendaire  an  hees  pants  joust  at  de 

break  of  day. 


»  It 

i 


'Jrtnef^  CanaJiaiy  Piftsv- 

=«8r= -" 


Lozon  he  plants  poor  Batteece  pants  in  de  sand 
long-side  de  shore, 

He  put  de  spendaire  in  also,  for  he  can't  find  notting 
more; 

Hees  got  no  stone  for  monument,  so  he  use  a 
feeshing  stave. 

An  wid  som  paint,  an  paint-brush  too,  hees  dec- 
orate de  grave. 

Joe  Lozon  spell  som  word  hon  dere,  for  eppitaffe  he 

say; 
Ah  ain't  can  read  or  write  messef.  Ah  ain't  brot  up 

dat  way. 
But  if  you  geev  attention,  Ah '11  tole  you  all  de  rest, 
So  please  excoose  mah  Englishe,  Ah  try  to  do 

mah  best. 


? 


f 


EPPITAFFE 

Here  lies  de  last,  also  de  hend,  of  Jean  Batteece 

DuChene ; 
Hees  got  blow  up  hon  Ecorse  Bay,  while  sailing 

hon  de  main. 
He  don't  expect  to  go  so  quick,  to  taike  hees  seat 

in  heaven, 
For  he  made  de  trip  hon  stannard  tam,  from  nine 

to  haf-pas  leven. 


An  when  de  good  Ange  Gabrielle,  will  maike  de 

trompette  blow 
Batteece  he  will  be  boarding  dere,  an  hees  familee 

also. 
Hees  troub  dey  was  all  ovaire  now,  hees  pants  he'll 

lose  no  more, 
For  de  captaine  of  de  Rosie  Belle  has  found  a 

peaceful  shore. 


i 


MORAL 

You  sailor  man  wat  hav  som  wife,  an  have  to  leeve 

awhile, 
Steer  clear  away  from  Ecorse  Bay,  at  least  for  two- 
tree  mile, 
An  keep  your  eye  hon  any  barl,  if  you  don't  know 

heem  firsrate, 
An  taike  no  chance  to  spoil  your  pants  by  sitting 

ho.    'e  freight. 
Som-tam  dat  barl  hav  feesh  inside,  an  som-tam 

flour  from  de  mill, 
Som-tam  it's  Walker  wiskay  too,  wat  com  from 

Walkerville. 
De  wiskay  she  don't  hurt  you  much,  but  she  don't 

do  you  much  good, 
De  flour  she  is  de  staff  of  life,  an  feesh  de  finest 

food; 
But  if  gun-pauder's  in  dat  barl,  be  careful  wat  you 

do: 
Put  out  your  pipe  an  cigarette,  if  you  know  wat's 

good  for  you. 
For  de  faudere  of  me  was  tole  me  so,  an  Ah  beleeve 

mah  fadere 
Deres  noting  can  raise  hell  so  quick  as  de  ole  tam 

gun-pauder. 


in 


JSL: 


Jmnefy  CanaJiaty  Verse- 


THE  MUSK-RAT 

T^E  pauvre  leetle  mush -rat  wat  leeve  hon  de  mash, 
■*— ^  Wid  hees  fonnay  black  nose  an  hees  fancay 

moustache, 
In  hees  good  coat  of  fur,  he  jaump  roun  so  freeskay 
You  tink  dat  hees  ballay  was  cb  c  fule  of  wheeskay . 

He  don't  do  no  harm,  when  hees  com  roun  de  farm, 
Only  borrow  few  ting,  joust  for  keep  hessef  warm; 
For  de  wintaire  will  com,  an  hees  dere  in  hees 

shaintay. 
Where  hees  saving  de  grub,  an  he  always  have 

plaintay. 

If  dey  let  heem  alone,  dat  poor  leetle  felleure, 
Hees  mind  hees  own  beesness,  an  leeve  in  hees  celler, 


t 


^vencfs.  CiinaJiat}  I  Wso- 


But  som  laike  to  shoot  heem,  for  mak  up  de  stew; 
Ah  tink  it's  too  bad  for  to  keel  heem,  don  you? 

Le  bon  Dieu  was  maike  heem  so  purtay  an  fat, 
He  geev  heem  more  style  dan  de  rest  of  hees  rat ; 
An  He  want  heem  to  leev  widdout  troubel  or  fear 
An  raise  all  hees  familee,  in  two  tree  year. 

But  som  son  of  a  felleure  wat  carries  a  gaun 
Hees  sneak  hon  de  mash,  joust  for  hav  it  som  fun, 
An  he   chase  it  an  shoot  it  wid  buck-shot  an 

pauder 
An  cook  it  wid  honnion,  for  maike  up  de  chaudere. 

Dere  aii- 1  much  societay  down  where  he  go. 
Of  course  dere's  de  maud-hen  de  fraeg,  an  shipeau, 
But  dere  vere  jjoor  companie,  a  leetle  too  slow 
Not  in  de  same  class,  wid  our  mush-rat,  you  know. 

De  maud-hen's  gran-fadere  was  voyageure  dock. 
Hees  modere  a  chicken,  wat  play  in  hard  luck, 
De  fraeg  an  de  shipeau  was  stupid  an  slow, 
De  mush-rat  don't  mix  wid  de  companie  so  low. 

So  de  mush-rat  he  leev  wid  hees  own  familee; 
Don't  run  roun  at  naight,  for  dere's  noting  to  see. 
An  if  som  buU-fraeg  or  shipeau  hees  meet. 
He  joust  wink  hees  eye,  as  he  pass  doun  de  street. 

He  carry  som  musk,  but  it  don  smell  so  bad, 

For  he  don  play  dose  trick,  like  de  skaunk  wen  he 

mad. 
Hees  clean  leetle  beast,  an  he  work  all  he  can. 
An  behave  hessef  better  dan  good  many  man. 

Wen  you  take  off  de  skin  of  dat  leetle  mush-rat. 
An  scrape  off  de  musk  an  forget  about  dat, 


'•  \\ 


f 


ymncf\-Canadiar\  Verso- 


=ts^ 


Wat  a  beautifule  fur,  mon  Dieu!  dat  is  fine, 
She  sell  for  two  dollar,  at  any  ole  time. 

De  mink  an  de  seal  an  de  beaver  also 
Was  cousin  wid  our  leetle  mush-rat,  you  know, 
An  offen  swell  laday,  wat  buy  seal  skin  saque, 
She  paying  for  mush-rat,  to  put  hon  her  back. 


MORAL 

Everting  in  dees  worl  hav  som  kind  of  smell: 
Som  smell  of  de  may-flower,  an  som  smell  lackell, 
But  if  you  wash  offen,  an  try  to  leev  clean. 
You're  sure  to  be  sweeter  dan  most  king  or  queen. 

De  fine  citay  laday  put  de  musk  hon  for  style, 
But  off"en  shees  go  widdout  bath  for  a  while; 
But  le  bon  Dieu  was  maike  de  poor  mush-rat  dat 

way. 
So  he  carry  hees  musk,  but  he  wash  every  day. 


^===^, 


110] 


-  ^    — 

=0 


i  nil 


•r* 


RETROSPECTION 


X 

^ 
^ 


MY  OLD   CANOE 

AH  see  you  befor  me,  mah  faithfule  canoe, 
.    Your  getting  so  ole  dey  don  use  you  no  more; 
But  dere's  no-bodday  knows  you  as  well  as  Ah  do, 
For  we  traveled  togedder,  along  many  shore. 

You  was  born  in  de  vere  sam  contray  as  me, 
Hon  de  farm  of  mah  fadere,  so  long,  long  ago; 

You  com  from  de  stock  of  de  virgin  pine  tree. 
Wile  Ah'm  of  de  habitant  stock,  as  you  know. 

We  grew  up  togedder,  as  tam  passed  away. 
But  we  never  was  getting  acquaint,  not  at  all, 

Till  de  tam  wen  dose  felleure  was  chop  you  dat 
day — 
You  made  de  bush  ring  wid  de  sound  of  your  fall. 

An  dey  maike  a  canoe  wid  de  bes  part  of  you. 
You  were  healthy  an  young,  de  purest  of  pine; 

[111      • 


!• 


yl^l^nct\  CiiruJiut]  Versa- 


=S^ 


No  wrinkles  was  dere,  you  were  solid  an  true. 
Dere's  no  wood  to-day  in  de  markette  so  fine. 


If  dose  felleure  was  leev  you  alone  where  you  grew 
You  could  stay  in  de  bush,  an  be  much  beeger 
tree, 

But  still  you  have  traveled,  an  only  a  few 

Could  hav  such  a  good  tarn  as  you  had  wid  me. 

As  we  drifted  in  moonlaight,  so  soft  an  so  clear, 
Wile  Ah  lay  hon  mah  blanket  to  tak  a  good  rest, 

Den  Ah  feel  satisfy,  for  dere's  noting  to  fear; 
For  Ah'm  sleeping  in  you,  an  Ah'm  dreaming  de 
best. 


U 

I 


By  de  clear  pebble  beach,  as  Ah  paddle  along, 
Ah  can  see  in  de  wataire  de  blue  of  de  sky; 

De  bird  from  de  shore  was  singing  dere  song. 
Den  Ah  tink  it's  too  bad  we  all  hav  to  die. 


Only  wanse  in  a  while  you  tipped  over  wid  me 

An  geev  me  mah  bath  for  de  week  in  advance; 
Den  Ah'm  mad  an  Ah'm  tinking  how  crankay  you 
be. 
An  Ah  swear  nevaire  more  will  Ah  geev  you  de 
chance. 

Den  Ah'm  tinking  once  more  of  de  evening  before: 
Ah  was  out  wid  de  boys  till  de  hour  was  so  late, 

An  we  had  a  few  drink,  an  we  had  a  few  more. 
Perhaps  it's  mah  fault  if  you  don't  go  firsrate. 


Mah  faithfule,  mah  silent  ole  friend  of  de  past. 

It's  only  de  good  Ah  remember  in  you; 
You  was  mah  ole  pal,  from  de  first  to  de  last, — 

should  Ah  tell  you  adieu. 


yrenef\^Canadiar\  Verse- 


You've  been  in  de  dry  dock  for  more  dan  a  year; 

Lak  messef,  you  are  weary,  an  out  of  de  race. 
Your  beauty  an  courage  was  leev  you,  Ah  fear, 

But  surely  de  ole  age  is  not  a  deesgrace. 

So  Ah'm  leeving  you  dere,  in  de  mud  an  de  clay. 
In  de  plaice  where  you  com  from,  mah  poor  ole 
canoe; 

An  when  Ah  lay  quiet,  hon  de  ole  farm  som  day, 
We'll  begin  at  de  starting  post,  both  me  an  you. 


■Bi 


^mncf^CanaJiat)  Verse- 


THE  OLD   TOWN 


DOWN   IN  OLD   QUEBEC 
A  Habitant's  Story 

IN  seventeen  honnard  an  feeftay-nine, 
It's  de  early  fall  an  de  weddere's  faine, 
De  soldat  Francais  was  in  line 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Dere  in  de  camp,  wid  de  great  Montcalm, 
Up  by  de  Plains  of  Abraham, 
For  Englande  de  French  don  care  a  dam — 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

But  in  de  darkness  of  de  night. 
Creeping  softly  up  de  hight, 
Dose  Redcoat  com  on  de  hill  to  fight — 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 


yr(!nef\Canadiat\  VcrsQ- 


=i^ 


It's  joust  befor  de  break  of  day, 
As  de  bugle  sound  de  reveiller, 
Dere's  a  courrier  wat  com  our  way, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  news  was  travel  everywhere 
Dat  Wolfe  an  all  hees  men  was  dere. 
Montcalm  joust  smile,  for  he  don't  care, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

"Aux-Armes!    Avancez!"    We  sound  de  call 
An  de  soldat  Francais  wan  an  all 
Taike  hees  plaice  to  faight  or  fall, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  mistey  sun  rose  up  dat  day 
To  shed  it's  light  along  de  way 
An  lead  Montcalm  to  victory, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  sparkling  ray  from  dees  saime  sun 
Shines  hon  de  Redcoat  every-wan. 
Laike  stars  of  steel  hon  de  Englishe  gun, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  cannon  roar  an  de  grape  shot  fly, 
De  smoke  was  folding  to  de  sky, 
De  ole  flint  muskette  maike  reply, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Each  side  com  on,  de  faight's  begun. 
We  quickly  maike  dose  Redcoat  run 
Wid  de  sabre  an  de  gun — 

Down  in  ole  Quebec. 


A 

I 
T 


^rifnc/]  ■  CanjJiai]  Verso- 


But  we  hear  bad  news:  dere's  hell  to  pay 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Joust  in  de  triumph  of  de  fight, 
Montcalm  was  die  right  in  our  sight, 
An  de  morning  sun  turned  into  night, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Dat's  true,  de  good  Montcalm  was  fall. 
Mon  Dieu!  dat  news  com  laike  a  pall; 
It  hit  each  Frenchman  wan  an  all, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  Redcoat  cheer;  dey  know  dat  sign. 
An  quickly  too  dey  form  in  line: 
Montcalm  was  gone  an  dere  feeling  fine, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  Englishe  faight  laike  hell  dat  day. 
An  dearly  too  our  armey  pay; 
L'espris  Francais  was  pass  away — 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Dose  Redcoat  wun  de  battle  fair: 
Step  by  step  dey  faight  us  dere. 
Montcalm  was  gone;  an  de  French  don't  care, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  Englishe  raise  dere  flag  on  high; 
De  battle's  wun,  when  we  hear  de  cry 
Dat  Wolfe  was  falling  down  to  die, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  genral  Wolfe  was  djring  fast. 
Saint  George's  cross  was  hon  de  mast. 
So  he  say  he  die  content  at  last, 
Down  in  ol 


'! 


i. 


X 


^      yrgnc^Canadiai]  Verso- 
's m 


An  befor  Montcalm  was  pass  away 
He  want  to  die  raight  off,  he  say, 
Before  de  Redcoat  win  de  day 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  French  an  Englishe  leeve  dere  still, 
De  Englishe  up  on  top  de  hill 
An  de  French  down  in  de  ole  Bas-ville, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

De  Englishe  own  de  town  to-day 
But  dey  leave  our  good  religion  stay 
An  de  ole  French  Code  we  all  obey, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Dere  in  de  Haut-ville  dees  story's  told: 
Of  Montcalm  de  brave  an  of  Wolfe  de  bold; 
De  monument's  built  in  de  days  of  old, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 

Faithfule  unto  death  each  wan, 
Never  known  to  turn  or  run. 
Each  contrey  lost  a  noble  son, 
Down  in  ole  Quebec. 


i. 


Jvcncf\  CanaJiar\  VatSQ 


n         \ 


*'t    \ 


THE   COURRIER 

(Old-time  Mail  Carrier) 

WHEN  de  wind  from  de  north  she  was  blowing 
and  blowing, 
An  from  de  dark  cioud  she  wes  snowing  and  snow- 
ing, 
De  habitant  know  it's  de  wintaire  dat's  round. 
For  many  long  month   dere'U  be  snow  hon  de 

ground ; 
An  he  stay  in  de  houst.  so  quiet  all  day, 
An  smokes  hees  ole  pipe  wid  de  Canaday  grey. 

De  snowbird  she  come  wid  de  cold  an  de  blow; 

Along  wid  de  storm,  in  de  cloud  she  will  go; 

At  de  break  of  de  cloud,  wen  de  snow  start  to  fall, 

Dat  petit  oiseaux  she  will  whissel  an  call. 

Dere's  a  man  in  de  storm  wat  she  meets  every  day, 

Dat  man  is  de  postman,  de  brave  courrier. 


II 


yrirnc/\  CanaJiaiy  Verso- 


Laike  de  snowbird,  for  wind  or  for  storm  he  don 

care: 
Hees  tuff  an  hees  healty,  he'll  go  anywhere 
Hees   "bottes   au   sauvage"    will   keep   hees  leg 

warm, 
An  hees  "capuchon  coat"  will  keep  off  de  storm. 
Ah,  here  he  comes  now  hon  hees  lively  snowshoe; 
Hees  waving  hees  hand, — dere's  a  letter  for  you. 


A  STRANGE  ROMANCE 

MAMZEL  Elizay  Tatreault   she   was   looking 
for  a  man, 
Was  in  de  markette  twentay  year;  she  do  de  bes  she 

can 
For  faind  som  felleurc  wat  was  hav  it  plaentay  of 

de  cash; 
She's  doing  all  her  possibel  for  try  to  mak  de  mashe. 


11 

,3. 


Wen  Mamzel  Lizay  she  go  out  into  de  companie, 
Her  voice  was  always  soft  an  sweet,  lak  honey  she 

can  be; 
But  dac's  de  bluff  wid  Lizay,  dat  voice  ain't  hon 

de  square. 
For  eef  she  mak  her  temper  go,  you'd  faind  de 

dev'  was  dere. 

She's  beeg  laday,  dat  Mees  Lizay,  an  every-boday 

knows 
She's  coming  from  de  contray,  where  de  vegetable 

grows. 
But  now  she  wears  de  dress  so  short,  de  bronze 

was  hon  her  shoe. 
An  she's  looking  laike  a  poulette,  an  a  fancay 

poulette  too. 


She's  sitting  dere  an  waiting  in  de  park  alone  wan 

day 
Wen  Pete  Soleau  was  happen  to  com  along  dat 

way. 
Dat  Soleau's  looking  quite  as  well  as  any  felleure 

roun. 
But  hees  de  beegest  liar  wat's  leeving  in  de  town. 

1201 


* ^WJ^  — = 


THE  PROPOSAL 

Mamzel  Tatreault  was  dress  just  so,  all  in  de  first 

class  style, 
So  Pete  was  look  her  ovaire,  for  quiet  a  leetle 

while. 
To  heem  she  looked  lak  millionaire  wid  plaentay 

propertay. 
So  hees  kneel  raight  down  before  her  an  dees  is 

wat  he  say: 

"Oh  Mees  Tatreault,  eef  you  could   know   how. 

much  Ah  tink  of  you! 
De  only  ting  is  murdere,  Ah  would  not  do  for  you. 
Ah'm  rich,  Ah'm  fit,  Ah  must  admit,  Ah'm  quite 

good  looking  too, 
AhVe  house  an  lot  an  cash  hon  hand,  an  mortgage 

quite  a  few." 

Mees  Lizay  she  was  sofTen  up,  wen  she  hear  wat 
he  was  say; 


She  almost  faint  wen  Pete  Soleau  was  name  de 

wedding  day. 
She's  positiv  her  ole  naightmare  was  surely  commg 

true, 
An  she  kees  heem  two-tree  tam  or  more,  as  any 

gal  would  do. 

Raight  after  dat  beeg  love  affair  was  pulled  off  in 

de  park, 
Soleau  was  keeping  vere  quiet,  hees  always  in  de 

dark. 
Dey  don't  wait  long  for  marry,  an  de  weddmg  it 

was  swell — 
A  justice  of  de  peacefule  town  he  operate  it  well. 

But  all  de  cash  he  brag  about  was  just  som  borrow 

gold. 
It  don't  tak  Lizay  vere  long  to  see  de  lie  hees  told: 
Hees  got  no  house,  or  lot,  or  cash,  but  it's  all  de 

odder  way, 
An  de  mortgage  wat  he  brag  about,  was  de  wans 

he  had  to  pay. 

Wen  Lizay  Tatreault  know  de  fact  about  dat  Pete 

Soleau 
She  call  heem  "skaunk"  an  "poUison,"  an  a  few 

more  name  also. 
She  sai,  "You  go,  you  Pete  Soleau,  Ah  can't  stand 

you  no  morel" 
An  she  put  de  bromstic  hon  behaind,  as  he  pass 

tru  de  door. 

So  Pete  he  mak  it  up  hees  mind  dat  soocide  de 

best; 
He  ting  he  will  go  drown  hessef ,  an  geev  de  town  a 

rest. 

[221 


I 


Jrencf\CaraJiar\  Verso- 


So  every  naight  at  twilaight  in  de  mash  he  tak 

hees  seat — 
Hees  trai  so  hard  to  get  de  brace;  de  sand  don't 

com  to  Pete. 

Wan  naight  hees  down  dere  all  al  ne  hees  fee!  ug 

sad  an  sore. 
He  fills  hees  pant  wid  brickbat,  c.  hf.  c^n't  rtoat 

any  more; 
He  try  to  tink  of  wan  good  ting,  he  do  in  all  hees 

laife. 
But  de  best  wan  he  remembers  was  de  tam  he 

cheat  hees  waife. 

De  wind  was  softly  moaning  along  de  mash  dat 

naight, 
De  bull-frog  he  was  groaning,  an  he  groan  wid  all 

his  might; 
De  maud-hen  cackel  all  de  tam,  she  always  do  her 

best — 
It's  de  evening  of  wan  lovely  day,  an  nature  was 

at  rest. 

De  tam  was  com  to  drown  hessef,  if  he  only  had 

de  sand; 
Dere's  no  wan  dere  to  hold  heem,  hees  long  way 

from  de  land. 
It  up  to  heem  to  maike  de  jaump,  or  maike  wan 

leetle  fall. 
An  say,  "Here  goes  Pete  Soleau,  here  goes  netting 

at  all." 

He  feels  dat  wataire  wid  hees  hand:  "Mon  Dieu!" 

dat  wataire's  cold!" 
Hees  tinking  of  de  bath  he  took,  back  in  de  days 

of  old. 


T 


yrcnc^  CanaJiuq  Vanfo- 


►r* 


I 


He  hesitate  a  leetle  bet,  hees  tinking  of  hees  fate— 
Dat's  de  only  tarn  de  man  was  saved,  wat  do  de 
hesitate. 

An  ole  maud-hen  she  cackel  first,  an  den  begin  to 

scream, 
A  shi-peau  try  to  mock  heem,  wile  flying  down  de 

stream, 
A  beeg  bull-frog,  wats  hon  a  log,  he  bark  at  Pete 

Soleau, 
He  wake  up  all  de  odder  frog,  an  every-wan  let 

go. 

Bapteme!  such    lively  musique,    he    never   hear 

before; 
So  Pete  was  hesitate  again,  den  he  hesitate  some 

more. 
He  trow  de  brick-bat  from  hees  pant,  an  in  de 

mash  dey  rolled. 
An  he  say,  "To  hell  wid  soo-cide  —  de  wataire's 

too  dam  cold!" 

Mees  Lizay  do  de  washing  now,  she  also  do  de 

scrub, 
Pete's  working  hon  de  wringer,  an  somtam  hon 

de  tub; 
But  shee's  de  boss  of  Pete  Soleau:  hees  got  no 

more  to  say, 
For  he  don't  forget  de  evening  of  dat  quiet  lovely 

day. 


•It' 


t 


M       yrenef^CanaJiai]  Verso- 


MORAL 

Wen  you  was  go  get  marry,  don't  start  off  wid  a  lie, 
For  de  dirt  is  hon  de  surface,  fore  de  washing  she 

was  dry. 
Don't  figure  for  de  cash  alone,  ren..  iiber  wat  Ah 

say, 
For  to  marry  joust  for  hav  a  home  will  never, 

never  pay. 
Don't  marry  joust  becos  your  fokes  was  laike  your 

pardner  well. 
For  de  wan  wat's  fit  to  do  de  job's  de  bes  wan 

wat  can  tell ; 
But  if  you  have  som  good  respect  for  de  wan 

engage  to  you, 
Dat  is  de  bes  way  to  begin,  you'll  faind  mah  word 

was  true. 
For  dat's  de  love  wat's  true  an  pure,  an  dat  s  de 

love  will  stay. 
An  le  bon  Dieu  is  de  only  wan  can  taike  your  love 

away; 
An  when  you  raise  som  familee,  in  de  coming  bye 

and  bye. 
You'll  know  for  sure  your  marriage  ain't  started 

wid  a  lie; 
An  de  blossom  in  de  springtam,  an  de  fruit  from 

such  a  tree. 
Will  be  de  best,  an  sweetly  smell  for  all  eternity. 


yrifncf\CavaJiar\    \;vsQ 


DINNER  A  LA   CARTE 

DE  week  behainde  las  week  Ah  go  hon  de  toun 
For  haul  load  of  wood  an  taike  a  look  roun, 
Wen  a  man  he  was  ask  me  to  go  to  dinnaire 
At  fancy  cafe  where  dey  hav  beel-o-faire. 

Dat  felleure  was  fossay  about  dat  dinnaire, 
But  he  don't  care  for  money — he  hav  it  to  spare; 
So  he  order  some  cock-taile  of  wiskey  an  gin 
For  fix  up  de  ballay  before  we  begin. 

Hees  name  was  Joe  Cannarde,  hees  well  educate: 
He  can  read  in  de  French  an  de  Englishe  firsrate, 
So  he  say  it's  de  style  for  to  eat  a  la  carte, 
An  would  read  of  de  beel  joust  to  geeve  me  de 
start. 

Wael,  he  read  hoff  each  ting  hon  dat  programme  to 

me — 
Ah  ain't  very  strong  hon  dat  beasness,  you  see: 
Dere  was  all  kind  of  grub,  all  de  joint,  all  de  cut, 
Dere  was  everting  dere  from  bouillon  to  nut. 

Dere  was  roasbeef,  an  mouton  (dey  call  it  spring- 
lam), 

Dere  was  maud-hen  an  codfeesh,  an  sugar-cured 
ham, 

Dere  was  cornbeef  an  cabbauge,  an  goose  liver  fat. 

So  Ah  say,  "pleese"  excoose  me,  Ah'U  taike  som 
mush-rat. 


Hees  got  a  beeg  plaice  for  to  hold  all  hees  food 
An  he  don  mind  de  price,  for  dere's  noting  too 

good. 
But  he  only  likes  game  wat  was  ripe,  he  tole  me; 
So  he  calling  for  wood-cox  an  spark  burgandie. 


"f* 


I 


1 


Dey  bring  heem  dat  bird  hon  a  vere  large  plate; 
Shees  dead  a  long  tarn,  but  she  suit  heem  firsrate, 
But  de  plate  was  so  large,  de  wood-cox  so  small, 
Ah'm  tinking  mah  fren  would  get  netting  at  all. 

Mon  Dieu!  Dat  ole  wood-cox  she  hav  a  long  beel. 
Ah  see  by  de  smell  dat  a  long  tarn  shee's  keel. 
But  her  beel  ain't  so  long  as  de  beel  hon  de  card 
Wat  de  waitaire  was  passing  to  mah  fren,  Cannarde. 

Mah  mush-rat  shees  cook,  "a  la  maitre  d'otele," 

But  any  hole  Frenchman  can  cook  it  as  well, 

For  we  use  plaentay  honnion,  for  baste  dem  joust 

so; 
Den  de  rat  maike  de  honnion  more  pleasant,  you 

know. 

Ah'm  not  used  to  burgandie  wine  wid  de  food. 
Dat  drink  it's  too  fancay  an  rich  for  mah  blood. 
Dat  cock-taile  was  bad  to  begin  wid,  you  know, 
But  mah  fren  he  won't  lissen  wen  Ah  tole  heem  so. 

Ah  can  drink  wiskey  blanc,  an  lauger  beer  too. 
Of  "Jean  Collin  fiz"  me— Ah've  had  quite  a  few, 
But  wen  Ah  eat  mush-rat  an  taike  dose  drink  too, 
Ah  never  can  tell  wat  dat  mush-rat  will  do. 

Wael,  we  split  a  few  quart  of  de  spark  burgandie. 

It's  fizzay  an  livelay,  an  too  strong  for  me. 

Wen  Ah  pass  a  few  drink  of  dat  wine  hon  mah 

moute 
Ah  talk  of  dose  ting  Ah  know  netting  about. 

Cannarde  hees  taike  two  tree  bite  at  dat  bird. 
He  eat  bones  an  all,  an  he  don't  say  a  word; 
Den  he  orders  more  wine,  for  a  "chaser,"  he  say  — 
It's  dose  chaser  wat  chase  me  an  catch  me  dat  day. 


i' 


=sst 


,5. 

t 


^r         Jri.mciyC'irijJiunVcr.fo         |; 


TAKING   THE  CHASERS 

Den  Ah  say  "Au  revoir,"  for  Ah  must  find  mah  way 
Back  to  de  stabe,  for  to  taike  mah  ponay. 
Dat  wine  an  dat  mush-rat  ain't  mix  vere  well, 
So  de  rest  of  mah  story  Ah  ain't  goin  to  tell. 

MORAL 
Pass  bye  de  bur gandie -wine  wid  de  spark 
If  it's  served  in  de  bright  light,  or  served  in  de 

dark; 
For  you  feel,  wen  you  drink  it,  you  own  de  whole 

toun. 
But  youre  broke  de  next  day,  an  dey  don't  see  you 

roun. 

An  don  taike  no  chance  wid  de  wine  wat  was  red, 
But  stick  to  straight  wiskey  an  lauger  instead; 
For  dose  are  de  drink  you  can  hold  wen  you  eat. 
An  you'll  hold  your  grub  also,  an  stand  hon  your 
feet. 


i 


JOE  LOZ    >J,  THE  POT-HUNTER  MAN 

YOU  read  of  de  bes  fighting  man  of  de  day — 
Dere's  beeg  Kaisaire  Beel,  of  de  Prusse, 
He  want  everboday  to  do  wat  he  say. 
It's  de  sam  way  wid  Nick  of  de  Russe. 

Dat  Beel  is  de  felleure  wat  hav  de  good  tarn, 
De  man  on  de  horse  wat  draw  de  good  pay, 

An  he'll  start  up  ^  v/ar,  an  he  don  geev  a  dam 
If  he  taike  all  your  brodder  an  cousin  away. 

Beeg  Beel  was  de  bes  faighting  man,  dey  all  say; 

It's  hard  to  maike  dat  felleure  run. 
For  he  knows  de  war  baesness  in  all  kind  of  way 

From  de  Zeppoleen  bumb  to  de  gaun. 

(291 


ye0nci\  Canadian  Varso 


% 


=2sr 


Den  you  read  of  dose  writer  wat  hav  de  good  brain, 

Dose  man  wid  de  fine  educate: 
Dere's  Laurier  Wilfred,  an  also  Mark  Twain, 

An  som  laike  Beel  Shakespeer  firsrate. 

Dere's  de  swell  cavalier — Mon  Dieu !  hees  so  grande ! 

Hees  dressing  so  gai  an  so  fine; 
De  duelle  he'll  faight,  wid  de  sword  in  de  hand, 

Wen  hees  chock-full  of  wiskey  an  wine. 

Den  you  read  of  de  artiste,  de  musical  man 

Wat  play  hon  de  flute  or  de  fid, 
Or  hon  de  French  horn,  or  de  babey  pianne 

Or  de  man  wid  de  stick  in  de  mid. 

Wael,  all  dose  faine  felleure  was  good  in  dere  way; 

Each  wan  do  de  most  wat  he  can. 
But  de  bes  all-roun  felleure  wat  Ah  know  to-day 

Is  Lozon,  de  Pot-hunter  man. 

Dat  Lozon's  de  boy  wat  know  how  to  faight, 
De  beeg  man  don't  scare  heem  at  all; 

He'll  clean  a  saloon  hon  any  ole  naight: 
De  longer  dey  go,  de  harder  dey  fall. 

An  Joe  hees  de  man  can  shoot  hon  de  wing, 
He  can  trap  any  skaunk  or  mush-rat. 

An  all  de  ole  feesherman  song  he  can  sing — 
He'll  paddle  you  naicely  all  over  de  Flat. 

Wael,  Joe  he  don  hav  it  so  good  educate, 
But  can  read  an  can  write  wen  he  wish: 

He'll  write  wid  a  pencil,  in  Francais  firsrate 
An  wid  de  sam  pencil  he'll  write  de  Englishe. 

Wen  Joe's  in  hees  store  clothes  an  fancy  plog  hat 
For  eo  out  at  naieht  to  de  dance 


•!• 


I 


—  — 

^ri!ncf\  ■  L  andJiiii]  Verso 


At  de  plaice  of  ole  Calimin,  up  at  de  Flat, 

Hees  look  laike  a  cavalier,  coming  from  France. 

Wid  plaentay  of  bear  grease  all  over  hees  hair 
An  white  paper  collar  an  fancay  necktie, 

De  ladays  wat  Josef  was  meeting  up  dere 
Was  ciazay  for  get  interduce,  bye  an  bye. 

An  if  de  musician  was  drink  too  much  beer 
An  can't  play  de  wals  for  de  gal  at  de  ball, 

Den  Joe's  at  de  fid,  an  dere's  two  tree  cheer, 
Dat  Pot-hunter  Man  is  an  artiste,  dat's  all. 

If  de  warden  for  gam  he  was  coming  along 
When  Lozon  was  hunt  hon  de  mash  any  day, 

Dat  Joe  he  just  smile,  an  he  whissel  a  song. 
An  de  warden  he  don't  ever  ask  heem  to  pay. 

Wael,  Joe  he  go  marry  wid  Julie  Soleau 
An  dey  have  a  few  children  in  saight. 

Joe  feed  it  all  well  an  he  clodid  also, 

An  he  don  maike  de  habat  to  run  round  at 
naight. 

So  you  see,  mah  fine  frend,  wat  Ah  tole  you  was 
true: 

Dat  Pot-hunter  Joe  i^  de  bes  man  of  all. 
Now  you  know  all  de  ting  wat  dat  bouillon  can  do, 

Just  show  me  de  man  wat  can  answer  dat  call. 


MORAL 

De  man  hon  de  horse,  if  wid  gold  he  be  crowned, 
Wid  all  hees  fine  jewel  an  manners  so  swell. 

Is  built  de  same  way  as  de  man  on  de  ground 
Wat  le  bon  Dieu  was  maike  and  was  love  heem 
so  well. 


Dose  Zarr  an  dose  Kaisaire  will  soon  pass  away. 
An  de'll  get  no  more  chance  for  to  start  up  a 

faight;  ..•      * 

Den  de  poor  common  man  will  have  someting  to 

An  de  man  of  de  people  is  sure  to  be  raight. 

Written  in  September,  1915. 


t 


mt  —  — 


GENEALOGY  OF  BATTEECE  TOURANGEAU 


AH'LL  tell  you  of  de  story  abou.  mah  famalee; 
.  Mah  educate  shees  not  so  good,   so  geeve 
excoose  to  me. 
Ah  got  no  records  from  de  book  of  wat  Ah'm  goin 

to  say, 
But  Ah  geeve  it  as  Ah  hear  it,  in  de  vere  saime  ole 

way. 

To  start  wid.  Ah  will  say  mnh  name  is  Batteece 

Tourangeau, 
Mah  blood  shee's  Francais  Canayen   on   both  de 

side,  you  know; 
No  Tourangeau  was  king  or  queen,  so  far  as  Ah 

can  tell. 
But  maybe  dey  was  hav  some  job,  dey  laike  it 

joust  as  well. 


PIERRE  TOURANGEAU 

Wael,  Pierre  Tourangeau,  wat  was  die  in  de  year 

eighteen-fifteen. 
Was  sojer  in  de  ole  French  Guard,  dere's  many 

faight  hees  seen; 
Was  wid  de  great  Napoleon,  was  brave  ole  man  an 

true, 
But  dey  shoot  heem  an  dey  keel  heem  hen  de  field 

at  Waterloo. 


1/^'' 

^==:^ 


'Jrtfnef^  Canadiniy  Vorso 


Wael,  dat  ole  man's  de  first  we  know  of  all  de 

Tourangeau, 
An  dc  recorde  of  dat  sojcr  was  de  best  ting  we  can 

show; 
He  was  de  fadere  of  de  fadere  of  mah  ole  dad,  you 


see, — 


Ah'm  proud  dat  such  a  sojer  he  could  belong  to  me. 


Wael,  de  next  wan  we  was  hear  about  was  de  grand- 

fadere  of  me — 
Dat's  Antoine  Poleon  Tourangeau,  wat  com  to 

dees  contree. 
Was  charpentier  wat  build  de  ship  from  spring-tarn 

to  de  fall, 
Was  hon  de  dock  wid  ole  Joe  Beef,  way  down  in 

Montreal. 


POLEON   TOURANQEAU 


De  next  is  Pete,  mah  fadere,  as  down  de  line  you 

come; 
If  you  can  trot  wid  mah  ole  man,  ba  gosh!  you  was 

go  some. 
Hees  captaine  of  de  scow  "Noel,"  hees  haul  de  sand 

and  freight. 
He'll  dance,  he'll  sing,  he'''     lay  de  fid,  an  taike 

hees  wiskey  straight. 


jltvttc^  CaraJiui}  Ihrso 


CAPITAINE  PETE   TOURANOEAU 


Den  come  raight  down  to  baesness,  and  taike  a 

look  at  me: 
Ah'm  Batteece  Tourangeau,  mon  Ga!  Ah  pass  de 

life  so  free. 
Ah  spear  de  cat-feesh  and  Ah  trap  de  beaver  and 

mush -rat ; 
But  better  man  den  me,  Ah  hear,  shees  doing  ^  c  •-:. 

as  dat. 


BATTEECE  TOURANOEAU 


An  wid  mah  good  wife,  Angelique,  Ah  leeve  down 

hon  de  mash, 
Ah'm  potter  too  and  do  mah  best  for  maike  de 

hones'  cash. 
Ah  got  four  gal  an  seven  boy,  and  som  more 

coming  yet, 
So  de  Tourangeau  dey  ain't  was  die  for  a  long,  long 

tam  you  bet. 

{35} 


I 


J) 


f 

i 


^      yr<fn>:t\CanaJiai]Voi\fO-    ^^ 


Some  tarn  Ah  geeve  de  storey  of  mah  moddere's 

famalee, 
But  dere's  only  wan  of  modere's  crowd  wat  is  de 

frend  of  me. 
You  know  de  habitant,  mah  frend,  wat  keel  it  all 

de  skaunk? 
Dats  modere's  brodder,  Joe  Moffron.     You  know 

it?     She's  mr'   .  mk! 


But  it's  a  fac.  wen  you  look  back,  from  de  head 

wan  to  de  tail, 
You  hain't  can  find  no  Tourangeau  wat's  leeving 

in  de  jail. 
We  dress  laike  all  de  habitants,  no  style  was  in  de 

gang. 
But  Ah  can  show  no  Tourangeau  was  ever  got  de 

hang. 

So  you  can  see  mah  famalee  was  maike  de  start 

firstrate. 
But  we  must  work;  we  have  no  chance  to  get  de 

educate. 
So  wan  by  wan  we  drift  along,  we  leeve  de  best 

we  can — 
We  go  to  mass  on  Sunday,  too,  and  don't  rob  any 

man. 


An  now  you  know  mah  story;  dere's  nothing  more 

to  tell, 
But  dere's  mah  home,  and  dere's  mah  wife,  wat 

cook  de  grub  so  well. 
Now  if  you  faind  me  good  nuff  for  be  a  frend  wid 

you.  .        „         . 

"Nevez  cher  nous  ce  soir,  mon  vieux,     we  have 

som  mush-rat  stew. 


OLE  CHENEAU 


I 


AH'LL  NEVAIRE  GO  HUNT  FOR  DE 
MUSH-RAT  NO  MORE 

OLE  CHENEAU  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  wan 
day; 
He  tak  hees  dog  Ponteau,  to  show  heem  de  way, 
He  got  soaken  wet,  in  de  wataire  he  fall, 
Ah  he  don  faine  no  game  or  no  mush-rat  at-all. 
Hees  feeling  deesgust,  for  hees  not  satisfy; 
Hees  wet  an  hees  getting  so  mad  bye  an  bye 
Dat  he  say  to  hessef,  as  he  cussed  an  he  swore: 
"Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

He  wade  tru  de  mash  an  he  wade  tru  de  hay 
Till  he  get  purtay  close  where  de  mush-rat  he  lay; 
Hees  dog's  hon  de  point  for  dey  all  smell  de  game. 
So  he  up  wid  hees  muskette  an  tak  a  good  aim. 
As  he  pull  hon  de  trig  den  he  maike  a  beeg  sneeze, 
An  down  in  de  wataire  he  go  to  hees  knees. 


yreac^-Capodiu:}  Verse- 


Den  he  say  it  out  loud  as  he  jaump  hon  de  shore: 
"Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

A  beeg  mallarde  dock  shes  was  sitting  close  by. 
Dat's  luckay,  for  Cheneau's  no  good  hon  de  fly, 
So  he  tak  a  good  aim,  but  de  gaun  she  don't  go: 
De  buUette  she's  wet  an  de  pauder  also. 
He  ript  an  he  cussed  at  de  gaun  an  de  pauder, 
Hees  voice  she  go  higher  —  an  den  she  go  lowder. 
Den  he  sai  it  all  ovaire,  more  loud  as  before: 
"Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

But  de  ole  mallarde  dock  she  sits  hon  de  creek, 
So  he  sai,  "Mistaire  mallarde  Ah'U  show  you  de 

trick. 
Ah'U  pass  a  few  salt  hon  your  fedder  behaind— 
Ah'U  fix  you  so  easay  dees  tam,  you  will  faind." 
But  de  dock  smell  de  salt  in  Cheneau's  tin  pail, 
She  hawl  oflf  her  main  sheet,  an  den  she  maike  sail. 
De  ole  man  he  yelled,  an  he  ript,  and  he  swore:  ^^ 
"Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

Den  he  jaump  in  hees  boat,  hees  mad  an  hees  wet, 
Hees  using  som  vere  strong  langage,  you  bet. 
He  sai  to  ole  Ponteau,  "Ah  want  you  to  know 
Ah'm  de  boss  of  dees  mash,  an  mah  name  is  Che- 

neau!" 
Wile  he  paddle  so  Uvely  hees  baump  hon  a  log 
An  ovaire  goes  Cheneau,  de  gaun,  an  de  dog. 
Den  he  holler  lackell  an  he  holler  encore: 
"Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

He  cUmb  hon  de  bottome,  for  help  he  was  call,  ^^ 
He  sai,  "Ah  go  drown  wid  mah  muskette  an  all." 
Som  habitant  hear  all  de  noise  an  de  splash 
An  Batteece,  hees  son,  he  com  down  to  de  mash. 


^^=^. 


! 


i 


^rene^-  Caitadiai]  Verso- 


He  pull  out  de  dog  an  he  pull  out  Cheneau, 
But  he  loos  hees  ole  gaun  in  de  channel  below. 
Batteece  sai,  "pawpaw,  your  so  safe  hon  de  shore — 
Don't  hunt  hon  de  mash  for  dose  mush-rat  no 


more 


He  spread  hon  de  grass  hees  shirt  an  hees  pants — 
Dey  dry  in  de  sun  if  you  geev  it  de  chance, 
But  a  beeg  hurricane  she  was  passing  close  by: 
She  pick  up  dose  pants  an  she  blow  it  sky  high. 
Wen  Cheneau  he  notice  hees  pants  in  de  air. 
He  sai,  "We'll  go  home  while  de  wind  she  be  fair. 
Au  diable  wid  de  mash!  Ah'U  keep  hon  de  shore! 
Ah'U  nevaire  go  hunt  for  de  mush-rat  no  more!" 

Hees  waife  grab  de  hole  man  an  put  heem  to  bed 
Wid  two-tree  flat  iron  hon  top  of  hees  head, 
She  pass  hon  de  shin  bone  som  muster  plastaire. 
She  rub  heem  wid  kerosine  oil  everywhere, 
She  geev  heem  som  sassaperell  wid  de  sp)oon. 
Den  he  sai  as  he  open  hees  eye  purtay  soon: 
"Such  luck  hon  de  mash.  Ah  don't  hav  it  before 
To   hell  wid  de   mush-rat!  Ah'U   hunt  heem  no 


more 


v. 


i  '-St  i 

m 

|e  I 

iji 

'}  ^  j 


? 


.c. 

I 


^rirncf\Caradiar\  Verso- 


A  STORY  OF  THE  MARSH 

IF  you  go  hon  de  mash,  at  de  edge  near  de  weed. 
Where  de  mud  she  was  black  an  de  cow  com  to 
feed, 
If  it's  joust  befor  sun-set  an  twilight  was  near 
De  Henglishe  jack-snap  he  was  sure  to  appear. 

He  don't  sing  a  song  like  de  rest  of  de  bird. 
But  he  hav  a  sharp  whissel  as  ever  you  heard, 
Like  de  squeak  ho  de  hinge  of  de  ole  kitchen  door 
When  you  com  in  so  sofly,  between  tree  an  four. 

He  hav  som  long  beel,  an  long  leg  as  well, 
Wid  hees  eye  hon  de  top  of  hees  head  he  can  tell 
If  som-boday  com  to  de  mash  from  de  shore, 
For  he  see  joust  as  well  from  behind  as  before. 

If  de  wind  she  was  blow  from  de  nort  in  de  fall, 

Dat  petit  oiseaux  he  don't  care,  not  at  all. 

When  hees  done  wid  hees  slow  prominade  hon  de 

mash 
He'll  fly  trou  dat  heavy  north  wind  like  a  flash. 

Bapteme!  hees  fly  crooked,  an  up  an  doun  too; 
If  you  watch,  you  can't  tell  wat  dat  felleure  will  do. 
Do  you  tink  you're  a  good  man  to  shoot  hon  de  fly? 
Wael,  load  up  your  shot-gun,  an  wait  dere  an  try. 

You  point  de  gun  strait,  wid  de  bead  hon  de  bird — 
But  perhaps  of  dat  job,  you  already  hav  heard — 
An  joust  when  you're  sure  dat  you've  got  heem  for 

fair. 
You  pull  hon  de  trig, — but  de  snap  she  ain't  dere. 

In  all  de  beeg  citay,  Joe  Lozon  tole  me. 
In  de  fines  hotele  in  de  town, 


I 


^renef\  ■  CanaJiat}  Varso-        |£ 


THE   SNIPE  HUNTER 


I 


If  you  look  hon  de  programe,  dey  call  beel-a-faire 
De  name  of  de  Henglishe  jack-snap  she  is  dere. 

Joe  say,  in  dose  plaice,  if  you  like  snap  to  eat, 
Two  dollaire  dey  charged  you  for  wan  hon  de  plate. 
De  price  she  go  high,  in  de  spring  an  de  fall, 
But  dere  charging  you  only  for  style,  dat  is  all. 


i- 


But  remember,  mah  fren,  dat  de  fool  ain't  all  dead 
(Ahtink  dat's  de  lanquage,BeelShakspeerehesaid) ; 
But  de  man  wat  will  pay  such  a  price  for  wan 

bird 
Hees  gone  off  de  nut,  you  will  pardon  de  word. 


But  why  should  a  man  want  a  bird  wat's  so  lean 
When  for  mouch  cheaper  price  he  can  hav  pork 

an  bean, 
Or  corn-beef  an  caubage,  or  galette  or  pie? 
But  Ah  guess  dere's  no  tam  when  a  man's  satisfy. 


^^===. 


[411 


^rgge^- Canadian  Verso- 


=^sr 


MORAL 


Each  felleure  hav  som  kind  of  grub  wat  he  like : 
Dere's  som  like  de  cat-feesh,  de  bullhead,  or  pike. 
A  few  like  de  Shipeau  and  maud-hen  also, 
An  a  good  many  man  like  de  leetle  crapaud. 

But  if  you  feel  hongray ,  an  want  a  good  meal ; 
Please  take  mah  advice:  it's  joust  how  Ah  feel — 
Joust  pass  by  de  feesh  an  de  frog  an  all  dat, 
An  order  mah  leetle  ole  fren,  de  mush-rat. 


[42] 


MY  DEAR  OLD  DAD 


ON  your  cheeks  the  lines  of  care, 
Your  eyes  have  lost  their  radiance  rare, 
And  dimness  shades  the  lustre  there. 

It  makes  me  sad 
To  see  you  wave  and  bend  at  last, 
A  storm-subdued  and  withered  mast 
Wrecked  by  the  tempests  of  the  past — 
My  dear  old  Dad. 

Long  since  the  dawn  has  passed  away, 
The  mid-day  sun  has  shed  its  ray. 
And  night  is  closing  on  the  day. 

It  seems  too  bad 
That  such  a  perfect  work  of  clay 
Should  blossom  only  for  a  day 
And  end  in  pitiful  decay — 

My  dear  old  Dad. 

Oh,  God!  Let  nothing  part  us  now; 

To  serve  his  every  whim,  please  tell  me  how. 

In  humble  supplication,  thus  I  bow 

With  only  this  to  add: 
That  in  return  for  all  his  love  of  me 
Staunch  and  faithful  to  the  last  I'll  be. 
He  shall  not  end  in  lonely  misery — 

My  dear  old  Dad. 


ytirae^CanaJiui]  Verso- 


% 


THE  RETURN 


THE  OLD-TIME  FISHING 
ON  DETROIT  RIVER 

DE  hole  tarn  fisherman  hees  gone, 
We  ain't  see  it  no  more; 
We  loose  dem  slowly  wan  by  wan, 
Dere  passing  from  our  shore. 

Doun  below  from  Sandweech  toun, 

Way  doun  to  Petit  Cote, 
So  many  you  could  see  aroun 

De  hole  tam  shaintay  an  de  boat. 

Up  to  de  fall  of  seexty-hate 
De  feeshing  it  was  all  O.  K. 

Along  de  Reever  of  de  Strait, 

Dere  feeshing  all  de  naight  and  day. 


'Jrane(\  CaraJiaty  Verso- 


Dey  catch  de  tourgeon  and  dore 
An  de  whitefeesh  all  de  tarn 

An  wat  you  spose  dat  cost  you,  eh! 
Wan  poisson  blanc  for  haf  a  dime 


An  dere's  de  hole  tarn  shaintay. 

An  de  man  wat  set  de  float, 
De  capstaine  an  de  ponay, 

An  de  man  wat  pulls  de  boat. 


An  dere  dey  go  at  sunset; 

Dere's  four  man  at  de  oar: 
Dere's  Covion  and  Joe  Payette, 

Dere's  Nadeau  and  Bedore. 


Pete  Valliquette  hees  at  de  stern, 
Hees  passing  out  de  net, 

Drouilliard  hees  at  de  capstaine 
Wid  hees  French  ponay,  you  bet. 


So  softly  up  de  stream  dey  row 

Tree  hunderd  yard  or  more, 
Dey  make  de  turn  an  roun  dey  go 

Raight  past  de  shaintay  hon  de  shore. 


De  seine  is  set,  you  see  de  float, 
De  trip  for  shore  it  won't  take  long. 

An  den  dose  Frenchman  in  dat  boat 
Dey  sing  dees  hole  French  song: 


yrifite^  Cavadiaty  Verso- 


% 


"Vmx  itfdt,fwi  la  reprise  en  cuaur. 


En  rou-lant  ma       bou    ■  le  rou-lant,      En   rou-lant    ma 
FIN.       •!      Voix  seuU,  reprise  en  ckaur. 


bou  ■  le. 


Der    •    rxir,  cbez  nous,    ya    -    tun    t    ■   tang, 
Voix  ieuU. 


En   roulant   ma 


beaux    canards    s'en 


vont  baignant,  rou    -   li  roulant,  ma        boule    roulant. 


Count  de  stroke  as  you  hear  de  song, 

Keep  up  de  tarn,  hole  man; 
You'll  like  de  tune,  it  won't  take  long. 

Now  sing  wid  me,  Ah'm  sure  you  can. 

Wan,  two,  tree,  and  wan,  two,  tree. 
An  den  agan  and  den  some  more. 

Den  wan,  two,  tree,  de  song's  finis — 
Dere  landing  at  de  shore. 


Agan  dere  at  de  shaintay, 
Dere  jaumping  from  de  yawl; 

Dere  sure  to  faind  it  plaentay 
Of  whitefeesh  in  dat  hawl. 


An  den  you  see  de  chaudiere, 
In  de  shaintay  always  hot; 

All  dose  fisherman  was  dere 
To  eat  de  bouillon  from  de 


j/renef\  CanaJiui\  VorsQ- 


Dey  light  de  pipe,  an  taike  a  drop. 
Den  Covion  was  geeve  de  call. 

We  ain't  gat  tarn  for  long  to  stop — 
Look  sharp,  mah  boy,  for  nodder  hawlf 

Helas!  dose  tarn  she  com  no  more, 
For  dose  good  man  she's  pass  away. 

Ah  hope  dere  hon  som  odder  shore 
Where  de  feeshing's  good  to-day. 

If  fisherman  wat's  in  de  ciel 

Can  hear  our  voices  down  below, 

No  musique  dey  would  love  so  well 
As  dees  ole  song  of  long  ago. 


\mx  seute.^ii  U  repttu  en  eHaur. 


En  rou-lant  ma       bou    -  le  roulant,      En   roulant    ma 
PIN.      f     Voix  sttiU,  reprise  en  ckaur. 


bou  -  le.  Der    •    nix,  cbez  nous,    ya    -    tun    t   ■   tang, 

Voix  stMle. 


$ 


=r=f="f    [f  i  r  p  f   p  I  g  &  G  ^ 

vont  baignant,  rou    -   li  roulant,  ma        boule    roulant. 


I 


Wne/\  Car^ian.  VorSO- 


TWILIGHT 
Lake  Ste.  CUir 

THE  MAN  AT  THE  BOW 

WAN  scow  com  sail  down  de  reever  Saint  Cla 
Timber  an  cordwood  her  deck  load  waer, 
An  she  sailed  so  merrily  over  de  barre 
Into  de  waters  of  Lac  Saint  Clar. 

Twilaight  sheps  falling,  de  sky  was  at  rest, 
Softly  de  wina  she  was  blow  from  de  west, 
An  de  scow  break  de  ripple  of  water  in  two 
Wile  she  skipping  raight  over  dat  lac  so  blue. 

In  de  mist  dere's  a  man  can  be  seen  hon  de  scow: 
Hees  leaning  raight  over  de  rail  at  de  bow, 
Wile  hees  singing  a  song  of  de  long  tarn  ago 
Wat  he  learn  in  Quebec,  in  de  Bas-ville  below. 


\ 


IS 

.5, 


Den  a  man  from   ie  mash  he  was  paddle  dat  way: 
Hees  a  potter  Wf    s  been  in  hees  canoe  all  day. 
An  de  song  fron^^  de  scow  it  was  fa!!  hon  hees  ear 
An  it  takes  heeni  way  back  to  ht   •<    todder  so  dear. 

Dat's  a  Frenchman  waf  s  smgmg  dat  sweet  melodie. 
An  he  sings  it  so  true,  an  he  sings  it  so  free; 
An  de  man  from  dt  mash  hees  a  Frenchman  also. 
So  he  follows  de  song  in  a    '  ce  soft  an  low 

Den  de  potter  he  taa4i^  htm  ole  h»t  f-nm  hees  head, 
Hees  pacdle  no  more,  an  hees  dri?'         n    p 
An  agan  it's  de  voice  iat  he  hears        .    ui. 
As  it  floats  hon  de  wp   ;rs  of  Lac  Sa        2\e 

Dose  two  Canayen  vat  vj»  dr  ting  a  a 
Are  from  de    aime  cantree,  an         e  de      uiic  aeart. 
An  de  poor  ^    '^tei  smiU  wid  hwx    eye      .1  of  tear, 
An  dees  was   i    son""  a    ~  de  ♦    tier  man  hear: 


A  ia    claa  ion-tai    n  M'en  al  lant        pro  ■  me-Mr, 

J"»i  trouv*     I'eau  si   l        if  (Ju«     .e  my        suis  bai-gn*. 


I  =]:-^d^^^#j-.^ 


ng  •  le     >«  que  je     aime.    Jaaais,  ic  oe      t'oublierai. 


IF 


Jrancf\^-Caaadiat\  Verso- 
jwwk" 


De  scow  it  was  fading  away  from  hees  sight, 
For  de  twilaight  shees  falling  fas  into  de  night; 
But  de  pottere's  still  dere  wid  hees  hat  in  hees 

hand 
An  hees  drifting  an  drifting  away  from  de  land. 

Hees  been  dreaming  of  all  dose  dear  one  of  de  past. 
An  hees  waking  up  slow  from  hees  vision  at  last. 
Still  he  hears  de  faint  voice  of  de  man  at  de  bow, 
Den  de  song  is  a  memory,  it's  gone  wid  de  scow. 

"Au  revoir,  mon  garcon,"  de  poor  potter-man  say, 
"Dat  song  tak  me  back  for  a  vere  longe  way." 
Den  hees  waiving  hees  hat  in  salute  to  de  scow 
An  hees  wish  heem  "Bon  voyage,"  dat  man  at  de 
bow. 


A  LESSON  IN  TABLE  MANNERS 

PETE  RABIDEAU  get  marry  wid  a  waife  from 
off  de  state, 
Shee's  Yankay  gal,  wid  plaentay  style,  he  laike  dat 

gal  firsrate; 
Shee's  blue  ballay  from  Massachu,  shee's  educate 

quite  well. 
Poor  Pete  was  joust  de  habitant,  hees  waife  was 
vere  swell. 

Pete  bring  her  back   to   Canadaw,   to   leeve  in 

Montreal ; 
Dey  get  dere  ting  togedder  for  keep  house  in  de 

fall; 
Hees  proud  about  de  way  she  look,  an  de  way  she 

cook  also, 
For  she  can  maike  de  l^est  bake  bean  of  any  wan 

he  know. 


I 


yrattcfyCavaJiuty  VeiSQ- 


Wen  Pete  was  hon  de  French  Reevaire  he  push  de 

lumber  raff 
An  get  acquaint  wid  wan  bouillon,  hees  name  was 

Joe  LaBaff. 
Wan  day  he  ask  heem  to  hees  house  to  hav  de 

good  dinnaire, 
Hees  sure  hees  waife  will  hav  de  bean,  for  firsclass 

beel-a-faire. 


Hees  waife  she  leam  in  Boston  to  maike  de  Boston- 
bean; 

She  maike  it  soft,  she  maike  it  brown,  she  also 
maike  it  clean, 

So  Joe  LaBafT  he  taike  hees  seat,  raight  wid  de 
familee. 

An  everyting  she  go  all  raight,  as  far  as  Pete  can  see. 


She  bring  de  bake  bean  hon  detabe.  L'enfantldat 

was  look  fine! 
Pete  say  de  grace  an  few  ting  more;  dey  dring  a 

leetle  wine. 
An  every  wan  was  hongree,  wid  de  best  of  appitite, 
An  Pete  he  do  hees  possibei  to  treat  dat  Joe  polite. 


But  wat  you  spose  dat  Joe  he  do?    He  can't  wait 

for  de  rest — 
He  don't  use  knife  or  fork  at  all,  he  laike  hees  own 

way  best, 
So  he  grab  dose  bean  wid  both  de  hand,  to  push  it 

down  dat  way; 
Of  course  dat  gal  from  Boston  was  quickly  faint  away. 


^rene^  -  CttnuJiat]  Verso- 


Dat  Joe  La  Baff,  of  de  lumber  raff,  still  gobbel  at 

dose  bean, 
He  push  it  in  hees  face  so  fast,  de  worse  you  never 

seen. 
De  bean  she  dissapear  so  quick  dere  was  no  odder 

way, 
So  Pete  he  hav  to  call  heem,  an  dees  is  wat  he  say: 


"Mah  waife  she  maike  as  good  bake  bean  as  any 

boday's  waife. 
But  she  never  see  your  style  for  eat  befor  in  all 

her  laife. 
So  if  you  ain't  quite  satisfy,  an  need  dose  bean 

encore. 
You  use  your  knife,  you  ain't  can  pass  your  hand 

on  it  no  more. 


Ah  see  som  lumber-jack  befor,  also  som  deck-hand 
too. 

But  Ah  nevwr  see  a  Canayen  wat  eat  so  bad  as  you. 

Ah  spose  you  was  too  ignorante  to  know  joust  wat 
Ah  mean. 

But  your  spoiling  all  de  companee,  an  your  spoil- 
ing all  de  bean." 


I 


For  long  tam  after  dat  affaire,  Pete  Rabideau  hees 

try 
To  maike  excoose  for  Joe  La  Baff,  but  hees  waife 

ain't  satisfy. 
She  com  from  Boston,  Massachu,  where  dey  breed 

de  etiquette; 
She  ain't  forget  dat  insult  for  long  long  tam,  you 

bet! 


M  '^^^^^'^'-y^T^^'S^j^^        '^'^^'^ — -^^ 


But  Pete  was  always  good  to  her  in  every  odder 

way, 
Hees  try  to  please  her  after  dat,  but  still  dere's 

hell  to  pay, 
Till  wan  faine  day  he  bring  her  home  a  diamonde 

carrotte  ring, 
An  now  she's  happy  an  content,  an  all  de  tarn  she 

sing. 


THE  RACE  AT  PETIT  COTE 


DID  you  ever  saw  mah  ponay — 
De  wan  wat  win  de  race? 
She's  hon  de  cutter  every  day, 
She  maike  de  rack  an  pace. 


She's  only  fair  French  ponay. 

She  hav  no  padda-gree; 
Her  color  was  de  ches-not  bay 

But  shee's  good  nufT  for  me. 

"Catin"  was  mah  ponay's  name 

(De  saime  as  ba-bee  doll) ; 
Across  de  Grande  Marais  she  came, 

She's  five  year  hole  las  fall. 

Gouleau's  got  a  pacing  horse. 
Ban  Butlaire  was  hees  name; 

He  bring  it  over  from  Ecorse, 
From  Meechegane  he  came. 

Gouleau  he  always  maike  de  blow 
About  hees  gait  an  paddagree; 

Dat  felleure  try  it  hard  to  show 

Hees  plog  could  maike  de  two-tortee. 

He  say  hees  modder  was  a  dam, 

De  fadere  was  a  sire 
Wat  win  de  race  mos  every-tam. 

Was  full  of  blood  an  fire. 

He  hav  a  ceefecate  to  show 
Hees  fadere  it  was  de  Pilot  R. 

An  also  dat  hees  dam  could  go, 
For  dat  was  Floray  Temp  de  star. 


We  ain't  see  Floray  for  long  tarn, 
An  Pilot  long  ago  was  die. 

Ba  gosh!    Ah  tink  dat  dam  an  sire 
Was  Gouleau's  dam  beeg  lie. 

Mah  fren  Cicotte  from  Wyandotte 

Was  tole  me  hon  de  sly 
De  record  wat  dat  plog  hees  got — 

You'll  hear  de  finish  by  an  by. 

He  say  dat  some  wan  was  a  liar; 

For  he  see  hees  racker  long  ago — 
He  pull  de  hengine  to  de  fire 

In  de  good  ole  citay  of  Munroe. 

Hees  gallop  for  de  fire  brigade, 
De  force  was  like  heem  well; 

Hees  hon  de  job,  so  Cicotte  said, 
Till  some- wan  rings  de  bell. 


An  den  he  say  de  dev's  to  pay, 
Dat  bell  was  change  hees  mind: 

He'll  turn  an  go  som  odder  way — 
An  leave  de  fire  brigade  behind. 

For  he  was  hongrey  all  de  day, 
Hees  hongrey  all  de  naight — 

De  com,  de  bean,  de  bran,  de  hay, 
Hees  gobble  everting  in  sight. 


Hees  appetite  she  can't  be  beat, 
For  hees  always  feel  so  well. 

Hees  sure  dat  was  de  tarn  to  eat 
Wen  some  wan  rings  de  bell. 


Gouleau  was  start  agan  to  holler 
Dat  Ban,  hees  pacing  horse, 

Would  beat  mah  ponay  for  tree  dollar 
Ah  cover  up  de  bet,  of  course. 

Dat  was  to  be  de  two-mile  race 
At  Petit-Cote,  along  de  shore. 

No  trot,  no  gallop,  joust  de  pace. 
Tree  dollar  cash,  an  notting  more. 


You  know  de  road  by  Jeem  MacKee? 

At  de  bank  shee's  turning  round. 
Dat's  de  plaice,  we  was  agree, 

Would  be  de  starting  ground. 


I 


Den  doun  de  reever  we  must  go 
For  two  mile  straight,  no  more. 

To  Louie  Youngeblod's  plaice  below- 
De  poplaire  tree  was  hon  de  shore. 


De  week  behind  las  Saturday 

We  fix  it  for  de  go. 
De  wedder  she  was  frostay 

De  hice  was  cover  wid  de  snow. 


We  bring  de  ponays  to  de  scratch. 

All  de  habitant  was  dere. 
Dey  put  dere  monay  hon  de  match; 

Dere  betting  freelay  hon  mah  mare. 


•Dees  be  de  race  for  pace  an  rack," 
Joe  Covion,  de  judge,  hees  say. 

'So  clar  de  way!  Gott  off  de  trak! 
We  start  de  ponays  raight  away." 


Wne/\  CanaJiari  Verso- 


I 


Den  neck  an  neck  we  start  to  go, 
But  de  judge  say,  "Start  wance  more!" 

We  off  agan,  hees  calling  "Whoa! 
Start  off  agan,  same  as  before." 

We're  off  at  last,  an  hon  de  speed. 

L'enfant!  dat  was  som  pace! 
Ah'm  trying  hard  to  take  de  lead. 

But  ole  Ban  still  was  in  de  race. 

De  snow  she  fly  as  we  pass  by, 
Mah  ponay  try  to  show  de  way. 

But  to  see  dat  ole  Ban  Butlaire  fly 
You'd  tink  dere  was  a  fire  dat  day. 

Neck  an  neck  we're  pacing  fast, 

We're  hon  de  plaice  of  Tom  MeLoche; 

Ah  do  mah  best,  Ah  can't  get  past 
Dat  ole-tam  hengine  horse. 

De  habitant  call  from  de  shore 
An  geeve  de  cheer,  as  we  pass  bye. 

"Avance,  Catin!"    "Avance,  encore!" 
"Wake  up!  wake  up,  ole  Ban!"  dey  cry. 

Ba  gosh!    Ah  never  see  such  race — 

Raight  togedder  side  by  side 
Dey  go  two-tortee  hon  de  pace; 

For  taike  de  lead  each  ponay  tried. 

De  Taveme  Rouge  we're  going  past. 

Neck  an  neck,  an  all  was  well; 
Ban  Butlaire  he  was  going  fast 


^JrencA  Canadiai]  Varso- 


THE  FINISH 

Den  Ban  he  break,  he  break  some  more, 
"Whoa  done!"  hees  driver  yell. 

He  turn  an  gallop  for  de  shore 
An  still  de  cook  she  ring  de  bell. 

Wid  me.  Ah  finish  hon  de  pace; 

Dey  cheer  as  Ah  pass  by. 
De  judge  decide  Ah  win  de  race 

For  ole  Ban  was  deesqualify. 

"Dat's  put  op  job,"  Gouleau  he  say, 
"Cicotte's  de  wan  can  tell — 

Dat's  heem  wat  pay  de  cook  dat  day 
To  ring  dat  dinner  bell." 


^tancf^  CanaJitit]  VerSQ- 


MY  DOG  FRANCOIS' 

AH  miss  mah  dog  Franswa,  in  town  yesterday, 
.  An  Ah  wait  for  heem  all  tru  de  naight. 
So  Ah  put  advertise  hon  de  pape  raight  away; 
Ah  hope  purtay  soon  dat  he'll  com  back  all  raight. 

De  notice  below  dat's  about  mah  Franswa — 
Jules  Bondie  was  write  it  in  Englishe  firsrate; 

So  Ah  wait  for  de  news  an  Ah  wonder  pourquoi 
Dat  Franswa  ain't  meetin  me  now  at  de  gate. 


t 


THE  NEWSPAPER  NOTICE 

Ah  loos  it  mah  dog,  or  hees  stole  in  de  street. 
In  de  crowd  at  de  court-house  at  noon; 

Hees  full  toro-bred  an  a  hard  dog  to  beat, 
Ah'U  pay  de  man  well  wat  will  bring  heem  back 
soon. 

Hees  smart  leetle  felleure,  wid  white  shaggy  hair, 
Wid  a  ring  running  roun  hon  de  hend  of  hees  tail; 

'Pronounced  Franswa. 


^=^==-~. 


^ 


^rfne^-  CtmJ/urj  Verso 


If  you  call  heem  Franswa  he  will  go  anywhere, 
Hees  a  gentleman  dog,  an  not  a  female. 

Ah'm  poor  habitant  wid  no  monay  to  spare 

But  de  man  wat  will  bring  it  dat  dog  back  to  me, 

Ah'U  pay  for  hees  keep,  an  Ah'll  pay  de  car-fare; 
Ah'll  ask  heem  no  question,  whoever  he  be. 


Ah  tink  mah  fren  Bondie  was  tole  wan  beeg  lie 
Wen  he  sai  in  dat  notice  mah  dog's  toro-bred, 

So  Ah  ask  heem  de  reason  an  he  tole  me  why 
An  dees  is  exactly  wat  Bondie  he  said: 

"De  breed  of  a  man  don't  show  trou  hees  clothes. 

If  dere  made  of  de  broadcloth  or  Canaday  grey, 
He  can  look  vere  well  an  dere's  nobodday  knows; 

So  you  geev  heem  de  benfit — dere's  no  odder 
way. 

For  de  real  gentile- homme  he  don  have  to  blow 
To  prove  wat  de  fadere  of  heem  use  to  be. 

If  hees  hon  de  square  dat's  de  bes  breed  to  snow, 
Den  you  don't  waste  de  tam,  for  to  look  up  hees 
tree." 


An  Bondie  he  sai  wid  a  dog  it's  de  same: 
No  sign  hon  de  fur  of  de  breed  you  can  see 

Or  wedder  hees  fadere  or  modere's  to  blame. 
For  all  kind  of  dog  have  de  same  kind  of  flea. 

Ah  believe  dat  is  true  wat  Bondie  tole  me, 

An  Ah'm  glad  for  to  know  dat  Ah  am  wat  Ah  am. 

Dere's  many  good  point  in  mah  dog.  Ah  can  see. 
Ah'll  bet  hon  Jule  Bondie,  hees  raight  every  tam. 

[611 


4 


c&» 


^ri/nc^  CitraJitir]  I'trrso- 

—      o~ 


Mah  dog  hai  no  modere  to  show  heem  de  way 
An  no  politish  for  to  fix  hccm  a  plaice, 

So  if  Ah  should  leev  heem  in  tro>ible  today 
An  nevaire  could  look  dat  poor  dog  in  ae  face. 

It's  a  long  tarn,  mah  fren,  dat  Ah'm  waiting  to 
hear. 

Twilaight  shees  coming  to  close  out  de  light; 
He  must  be  wid  stranger  or  he  would  appear. 

Ah  wonder  if  Franswa  will  come  home  to-night? 


t 


Stop!    Wait  a  minnet!  who's  dat  at  de  door? 

Who's  pushing  it  open  an  jaunsping  raight  in? 
It  es — it  es  Franswa  who!  crawls  hon  de  floor; 

Hees  trying  to  tell  me  just  where  he  has  been. 

"Enough  my  dog  Franswa,  don't  spik  any  more," 
For  now  Ah  am  happy  an  satisfy  too. 

No  more  will  you  wander  away  from  mah  door, 
An  nevaire  agan  will  we  part,  me  an  you." 


MORAL 

The  poor  friendly  dog  so  faithful  and  true 
Is  willing  to  share  all  your  troubles  with  you; 
At  your  slightest  affront  he  will  growl,  he  will 

fight, 
He'll  follow  your  footsteps  from  mom  until  night. 
It  s  not  for  the  gold,  nor  for  glory  or  pride, 
That  he's  wistfully  wagging  his  tail  by  your  side: 
He's  craving  for  just  a  slight  notice  from  you; 
A  pat  on  the  head  or  a  soft  word  will  do. 


He's  more  than  repaid  for  his  kindness  and  care 
With  the  bone  or  the  crust  that  will  fall  to  his 

share, 
And  he  meekly  and  silently  bows  to  the  frown 
With  sorrowful  eye  and  with  tail  hanging  down. 
But  his  troubles  are  over  as  soon  as  you  smile, 
He's  watching  the  look  on  your  face  all  the  while. 
For  friendship  so  rare,  for  affection  so  true, 
Just  give  him  a  smile — it's  the  le..  l  you  can  do. 


r 


yrimc^CiinaJiui}  Verso- 


A  LEGEND  OF  DETROIT  RIVER 

BOUT  fortay,  feeftay  year  ago,  dey  run  a  side- 
wheel  ferry 
Along  de  Strait  wat  separate  Lac  Saint  Claire  from 

Lac  Erie. 
Ask  som  ole-tam  habitant,  if  your  knowing  som 

of  dem, 
Dey '11  tell  you  bout  det3  story  of  de  leetle  steamer 
Gem. 

She  hav  som  fancay  smok-stac,  an  a  pilot  house 

also, 
Dere's  wheel  inside  de  paddle  box  to  mak  dat 

vassalle  go. 
Widdout  a  skip,  she  mak  de  trip  from  Detroit, 

Meechegane, 
Across  to  Wainsorr,  Canaday,  an  com  raight  back 

agane. 

Captaine  Tom,  of  de  leetle  Gem,  was  wan  good 

sailor  too. 
Could  run  de  hengine,  trow  de    ■  e,  dere's  nothing 

he  can't  do. 
An  any  gel  wat's  looking  well,  don't  hav  to  pay 

som  fare — 
Hees  laike  de  laday,  Captaine  Tom,  an  for  de  cash 

don  care. 

About  dees  tam  de  ole  Bamam  was  com  trou  Cana- 
day, 

De  ciercris  leeve  Belle  Reever,  because  de  job  don 
pay: 

So  down  de  hill  in  Wainsorr  Town  ole  Bamam 
bring  hees  show; 

He  want  to  pass  across  de  creek  as  fast  as  he  can 


! 


yrenef^-CatUidiaty  Vcrjv- 


Hees  geeve  salute  to  Captain  Tom:  "Cap,  how  she 

go  wid  you?" 
"Ah  feel  O.  K.,"  de  Captain  say,  "an  Ah'm  going 

firs-rate  too!" 
"Wat  you  charge  for  bring  mah  show  across  to 

Meechegane?" 
"For  twentay  dollar  Ah  will  move  de  whole  dam 

caravane." 


Captaine  Tom  call  to  hees  mate — hees  name  was 
Billideau — 

To  load  de  hanimal  hon  de  Gem  as  fast  as  he  can 
go; 

So  he  drive  de  caravane  hon  board,  wid  de  ring- 
man  an  de  clown. 

An  Billideau  get  much  excite,  as  he  roll  hees  eye 
aroun. 

For  you  must  know  dat  Billideau  was  only  common 

mate, 
Could  handle  horse  or  cow  or  goat,  an  do  de  job 

firsrate; 
But  when  he  see  dat  ciercass  wat's  hon  de  Gem  dat 

day 
Hees  sure  before  dey  mak  de  shore  de  dev  will  be 

to  pay. 


Dere's  el-fante  wat  was  white  lak  snow,   dere's 

zebera  an  geeraff, 
Som   lion   an   som   tiger  too,   an   golden-headed 

calf. 
He    s«e    som    clown,   also    som    mule,  also   som 

buffalo. 
An  he  see  dose  lovly  laday  too,  wat's  acting  in  de 

show. 


2rancf^CanaJiat\  Varso- 


But  de  most  expenseeve  hanimal  wafs  hon  de  Gem 
dat  day 

Is  de  fir^  an  only  hippopot  wat  com  to  dees  con- 
trey. 

He  com  dees  way  from  Africay,  wid  Bamam  long 
before, 

An  Bamam  say  dat  felleure  way  ten  tousand  poun 
or  more. 


I- 


De  Gem  she  tak  dem  half-way  cross  dat  beautiful 

reever, 
Where   de  wataire   she  was  clear  and   blue — but 

maybe  you  was  dere — 
When  de  tiger  scratch  de  lion  behainde,  dat  scare 

de  buffaloo, 
An  de  el-fante  blow  hees  trompette,  an  bust  up 

ail  de  show. 


^renef\^  Canadiar\  VarSQ- 


Dat  hippopot,  since  he  was  brot  from  de  mash  in 

Africay, 
Don't  hav  no  tam  for  wash  hessef  since  he  left  home 

dat  day. 
He  see  de  fight,  an  get  excite,  while  de  caravane 

she  roared, 
An  de  wataire  looked  so  good  to  heem,  he  jaump 

raight  overboard. 

Hees  grunt  was  lak  de  tondaire.  for  dey  feel  it  hon 

de  shore, 
He  shake  hees  tail,  an  mak  de  dive,  an  don't  com 

up  no  more. 
Ole  Bamam  swear  an  pull  hees  hair,  he  almos  mak 

defit. 
But  Captaine  Tom  laugh  hon  hees  face,  an  mak  de 

ole  man  quit. 

When  de  leetle  Gem  she  reach  de  foot  of  Wood- 
ward Avenue, 

Ole  Bamam  pull  wan  roll  of  beel,  de  first  ting  da*^ 
he  do. 

Wan  tousand  dollar  he  will  geeve,  an  a  bran  new 
coat  an  pants, 

To  de  man  wat  catch  dat  hippopot,  but  no  wan 
tak  de  chance. 


Dose  gennelmans  about  de  dock,  dey  com  down  to 

de  shore — 
Dere's  Captaine  Pridge,  an  Beel  E-nasse,  an  also 

Artaire  Gore, 
Dere's  Beeg  Tom  Reath  an  Captain  Horn,  an 

Connay  Scanlan  too, 
An  Captain  King  wid  a  new  plog  hat,  in  a  fancay 

suit  of  blue. 


^rgnef\CdnaJiat\  Versa- 


^ 


Wael,  all  dose  felleure  know   de  rcevcr   and  de 

currant  wael, 
But  how  to  trap  dat  hippopot,  dere's  none  of  dem 

can  tell. 
Den  Bamam  buy  a  glass  for  spy,  from  Mistaire 

Fox  down  dere. 
An  de  ole  man's  looking  up  an  down  de  reever 

everywhere. 

Tree  day  was  passing  since  dat  hip  was  jaumping 

from  dat  boat 
An  Pete  Nadeau  was  sitting  hon  de  shore  at  Petit 

Cote, 
Dat's  joust  below  ole  Sandweech,  hon  de  side  of 

Canaday, 
Where  dey  raist  de  finest  radishe  wat's  in  dees 

whole  contray. 

Nadeau  was  hon  hees  capstaine  he  fix  hees  cat- 

feesh  line; 
Hees  feel  content  an  satisfy,  for  de  feeshing  dere 

was  fine, 
But  when  he  lift  hees  eyebrow  to  look  out  hon  de 

reever 
Ba  gosh!  mah  fren,  he  see  somting  wat  mak  dat 

bouillon  sheever. 

He  hear  a  grunt  wat's  sounding  lak  a  cannon  shot 

close  by, 
An  de  reever  rise,  de  reever  fall,  de  wave  shees 

running  high; 
An  purtey  soon,  lak  beeg  balloon,  wid  uglay  eye 

an  nose, 
Dat  hippopot  expose  hessef,  an  from  de  wataire 

rose. 

[681 


t 


I 


^^        ^rencf\  CanaJiur\  VciSQ- 


Wael,  Pete's  so  scare,  he  cross  hessef,  but  dere's  no 

tarn  to  pray; 
For  hees  sure  de  dev'  shees  com  at  last  to  tak  heem 

raight  away. 
An  while  dat  dam  ole  hippopot  was  making  for  de 

shore 
Nadeau  was  making  for  de  bush,  for  he  ain't  stay 

dere  no  more. 


Som  of  de  ole  tam  habitant  wat's  leeving  down  dat 

way 
Dey  see  dat  ugley  hanimal  while  he  prominade 

roun  dat  day. 
Dere  sure  de  world  com  to  de  hend  an  finish  up  for 

fair. 
An  dere  off  for  Reever  au  Canard,  to  find  de  priest 

down  dere. 


When  de  hippopot  was  satisfy  dat  he  scare  dem 

all  away, 
Se  find  de  plaice  de  radlshe  grow,  an  dere  he  spend 

de  day. 
He  eat  de  radishe  wat  was  ripe,  an  de  radishe  wat 

was  green, 
Befor  he  finish  up  de  job,  he  eat  de  radish  clean. 

¥ou  know,  mah  fren,  de  radishe,  dat's  not  for 
steady  meai — 

You  eat  a  few,  and  dat  will  do,  an  den  de  gas  you 
feel. 

^1  when  dat  hongrey  hippopot  eat  all  de  radishe 
dere. 

He  swell  so  fas  from  all  de  gas  he  can't  move  any- 
where. 

[691 


W*  d  fe-t 


"^ 


He  does  hees  eye,  hees  hon  de  ground,  he  won't 

got  up  so  soon, 
For  de  gas  from  all  dose  radishe  would  fill  a  beeg 

balloon. 
Was  dat  de  sound  of  hurricane?    Wat's  coming 

down  de  shore? 
Wael,  no.    Dat's  joust  de  hippopot,  hees  letting 

go  de  snore. 

Dov/n  comes  de  ole  man  Bamam  wid  a  doctaire  of 

de  horse, — 
It's  Doctaire  Rippe,  de  vetrenaire,  de  best  man  in 

Ecorse. 
He  use  a  pump,  he  use  a  saw,  he  also  use  a  truss. 
For  de  doctaire  faind  hees  much  congest  inside  hees 

sofTacuss. 

So  Bamam  get  hees  reever  horse,  an  start  back 

for  de  show, 
He  cross  de  creek  wid  Captaine  Forbe  hon  de  ferry 

boat  Argo. 
Dose  habitant  wat  get  excite,  dey  all  com  back 

next  day. 
An  since  dat  tam  no  hippopot  was  coming  down 

dat  way. 

Poor  Pete  Nadeau,  away  she  go,  from  good  ole 

Petit  Cote, 
No  more  feeshing  net  for  Pete,  an  no  more  feerii- 

ing  boat. 
Hees  hon  de  inlaiid  farm,  dey  say,  bout  twelve 

mile  from  de  shore, 
Hees  satisfy  to  tak  no  chaiKe  hon  de  reever  bank 

no  more. 

NOTE. —  It  is  true  that  in  the  sixties,  while  a  wild-beast 
show  was  being  transported  across  E>etroit  River,  a  hippo- 
potamus plunged  from  a  steamer  and  remained  in  the  river 
for  three  days. 

(701 


^r,/ncf\- CairaJiar\  Vtrso- 

=== o 


THE  HABITANT'S  LAMENT 

HON  de  farm  of  mah  fadere,  at  de  marais  below, 
Dat's  de  plaice  Ah  was  bom  me,  a  long  tarn 
ago. 
De  ole  house  she  stands  hon  de  side  of  de  hill — 
Ah  wish  de  ole  crowd  was  all  leeving  dere  still. 
Ah  see  de  ole  home  as  Ah  close  up  de  eye: 
Mah  modere  so  dear,  an  mah  fadere  clos  bye, 
But  none  of  dose  dear  wan  was  roun  me  today; 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tarn  she's  all  past  away. 

Wen  we  husk  it  de  com,  or  to  dance  we  would  go, 
Wid  de  ponay  we  drive  in  de  cart  or  traineau. 
De  boy  an  de  gal  dey  would  spark  at  de  gate, 
Dere  singing  of  love  till  de  hour  she  was  late. 
All  mah  brodder  an  cousin  an  friend  was  aroun. 
Every  wan  was  acquaint  wid  de  odder  in  town. 
An  we  smoke  de  clay  pipe  wid  de  Canaday  Grey — 
Ah'm  sorry  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 

Wen  we  go  to  de  citay,  for  tak  in  de  show. 
At  dte  Hopperaw  House,  or  de  ciercasse  you  know, 
De  citay  she's  quiet,  lak  de  peep  wat  you  meet; 
You  can  drive  you're  French  ponay  all  over  de 

street. 
An  if  you  walk  roun,  you  can  be  your  own  boss — 
De  cop  of  de  traffic  don't  pull  you  across. 
Wid  your  pant  in  your  boot,  you're  walking  all 

day; 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 

Dere's  no  motor-cceke  for  to  mak  your  jaump 

roun — 
Dose  fellcure  wat  go  lak  de  dev'  trou  de  town. 
You  cross  cte  street  offen,  it's  joust  how  you  feel. 
An  you  <fc»n't  hear  de  bark  from  de  automobile. 


^rtfnci^  CtinuJiut]  IWsv 


isr 


A  CALL  ON   RABIDEAU 

No  lectricetay  she  was  hon  dc  street  car, 
But  de  car  wid  de  ponay  will  pull  you  as  far; 
Ah  tink,  as  Ah'm  looking  aroun  me  to-day. 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tarn  she's  all  past  away. 

An  now  wen  Ah  tak  mah  good  ponay  wid  me 
An  drive  to  de  citay,  mah  frend  for  to  see, 
Ah  always  mak  visit  to  Pete  Rabideau, 
Wat  keep  a  saloon,  an  a  hotele  also. 
Den  we  have  a  few  drink  of  de  Walkerville  Rye 
An  hees  read  me  de  news  from  de  pape  bye  an  bye. 
But  Ah'm  not  satisfy.     In  mah  ole  fashion  way, 
Ah'm  sorry  to  see  all  de  change.  Ah  must  say. 

De  tam  she  was  change,  an  changing  for  fair, 
Dey  say  dere's  som  felleure  wat  fly  in  de  air 
For  two  tousand  mile,  to  de  New  York  Citay, 
An  finish  de  trip  fore  de  close  of  de  day. 


frirncf^  CdttaJiur\  Veisu 


Dere's  de  diving  boat  **U,"  she  don't  com  up  at  all. 
She  traval  below,  from  de  spring  to  de  fall. 
Wat's  going  to  becom  of  de  peep?    Ah  should 

say — 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 

Dere's  dose  picture  wat's  moving  aroun   at  de 

show, 
A  man  wid  a  crank  he  can  start  dem  to  go; 
An  dey  walk  an  dey  talk,  and  dey  laugh  an  dey 

smile, 
An  som  of  dem  sing  in  de  very  best  style. 
An  wen  dose  man  die,  dere  voice  is  still  strong 
An  at  dere  own  funeral,  can  sing  dere  own  song. 
Bapteme !  dere  was  noting  you're  sure  of  today — 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 

Dey  say  if  som  felleure  in  Sout-Africay 

Was  hav  a  few  dollar  in  monay  to  pay 

He  can  spic  to  hees  gal  in  Detroit,  Meechegane, 

An  de  gal  she  can  spic  to  it,  raight  back  agane. 

Dose  voice  hon  de  air,  trou  de  windmill  she  go 

Dat's  seex  tousand  mile,  mah  good  frend,  you  know. 

Mon  Dieu!    Wen  Ah  hear  such  a  news.  Ah  must 

say. 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 

Pete  tole  me  som  cannon  can  trow  out  de  ball 
Wat  go  tortay  mile  before  she  was  fall; 
An  if  dat  ball  bust,  an  you're  standing  close  bye. 
You're  gone  for  dey  don  geeve  you  tam  for  to  die. 
Dere's  a  very  bad  war,  where  tree  million  or  two 
Was  loose  all  dere   life,  joust   for  noting,   dat's 

true. 
An  de  poor  common  man,  she  hav  noting  to  say — 
It's  a  shame  dat  de  ole  tam  she  ain't  here  today. 


Ah've  no  educate,  an  mah  brain  is  too  slow, 
Or  maybe  Ah  don't  understand  it,  you  know; 
But  it  makes  me  feel  bad,  an  Ah'm  also  excite, 
De  world  she  is  changing  from  day  tam  to  naight. 
She's  going  so  crazay,  ^e's  going  so  fast, 
Le  bon  Dieu,  will  stop  de  whole  beesness  at  last. 
So  Ah'll  stay  hon  de  mash,  dere'U  be  hell  to  pay — 
It's  too  bad  de  ole  tam  she's  all  past  away. 


^ 


(741 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE  SCOW  JULIE  PLANTE 
(A  Legend  of  Lake  Ste  Claire) 

Aa  Recited  and  Sung  About  Detroit  in  1870 

Reviled  and  Illustrated  by  Wm.  B.  Baubi* 

TWAS  wan  dark  night  on  Lak  Ste  Claire, 
De  win'  she  blow,  blow,  blow, 
When  de  crew  of  wood  scow  "Julie  Plante" 
Got  scair't  an'  run  below — 
For  the  win'  she  blow  lake  hurricane 
Bimeby  she  blow  some  more, 
An'  dat  scow  bus'  up  on  Lak  Ste  Claire 
Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 


De  Capitaine  walk  hon  de  fronte  deck 
An'  he  walk  hon  de  hin'  deck  too — 
He  call  de  crew  from  up  de  hole 
An'  he  call  up  de  cook  also. 
De  cook  shee's  name  was  Rosie, 
She  come  from  Monreale, 
Was  chamber  maid  hon  a  lumber  barge, 
Hon  de  beeg  Lachine  Canal. 


De  win'  she  blow  from  nor' —  eas' —  wes', — 

And  de  sout  win'  shee  blow  too, 

When  dat  Rosie  gal  cry  "Capitaine, 

Mon  Cher,  w'at  will  I  do?" 

Den  de  capitaine  t'row  de  beeg  ankeere. 

But  still  de  scow  she  dreef, 

De  crew  she  can't  pass  hon  de  shore, 

Becos'  shee's  los'  her  skiff. 


MICROCOfY   HESOIUTION   TBT  CHA«T 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


I.I 


■  2.8 

■  4.0 


2.5 
2.2 

1.8 


^  /APPLIED  IN/MGE    Inc 

Sr  1653   f.^st   Main    Street 

g*—  Rochester.    New   York         U609        USA 

^X  (716)    482  -  0300  -  Phone 

^a  (716)    288  -  5989  -  Fqk 


IF 


yrenef\  Canadiat\  Verso- 


i 


X 


De  night  was  dark  lak'  wan  black  cat, 

De  wave  roll  high  an'  fas'. 

Wen  de  capitaine  grab  dat  Rosie  gal 

And  tie  her  to  de  mas'. 

An'  den  hee's  tak'  de  life  preserve. 

An'  hee's  jaump  off  hon  de  lak. 

An'  say  "Good  bye,  ma  Rosie  dear, 

I  go  drown  for  your  sak'  ". 

Nex'  morning,  very  earlay, 

'Bout  Ha'f-pas'  two —  t'ree      four — 

De  capitaine —  scow  -  an  de  poor  Rosie 

Was  corpses  hon  de  shore" 

For  de  win'  she  blow  lak.  hurricane, 

Bimeby  she  blow  some  more, 

An'  dat  scow  bus'  up  hon  Lak  Ste  Claire, 

Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 

MORAL 

Now  all  you  good  scow  sailor  man, 

Tak'  warning  from  dat  storm, 

An'  go  an'  marry  som  nice  French  gal. 

An'  leev  hon  wan  beeg  farm. 

Den  de  win'  can  blow  lak'  hurricane. 

An'  s'pose  she  blow  some  more. 

You  can't  get  drown  on  Lak  Ste  Claire, 

So  long  as  you  stay  on  shore. 


yrencf\  CanQtJiar\  Verse- 


's 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  POLEON  NADEAU 

("There's  No  Good  Time  to  Die") 


<V«J' 


I  WOULD  not  die  in  de  spring-tarn, 
Wen  de  grass  is  fresh  an  green, 
Wen  you  see  de  morning  sky  so  blue 
Wid'  de  air's  so  pure  and  clean. 
Your  pulse  ees  strong,  you  feel  alive, 
De  glou-glou's  hon  her  nest, 
De  trout  hee's  waking  slowly 
From  hee's  cold  an'  silent  rest. 
Each  wan  you  meet  ees  bright  an'  gai, 
De  children  run  an  laugh  an'  play, 
It's  de  beautiful  ole  spring-tam — 
An'  I  could  not  pass  away. 

I  would  not  die  in  summer-tam, 
Dat's  de  poor  man's  tam  of  year, 
De  twilaight  ees  so  peacefule, 
De  moonlight  soft  an'  clear, 
Dere's  no  wan  feels  lak  working, 
Dere's  no  wan  seems  to  try. 
But  dose  evening  you'll  remember 
In  de  coming  bye  and  bye. 
De  com  she's  waving  in  de  field. 
Wile  de  breeze  will  gently  blow, 
Dat  ees  de  grande  ole  summer-tam — 
An'  I  don't  care  den  to  go. 

I  would  not  die  in  de  fall-tam, 
Dat's  de  best  tam  of  de  year, 
De  mash  and  field  shee's  fule  of  gam, 
Wile  de  hunter's  gaun  you  hear, 
De  snape  an'  plovaire  prominade 
Along  de  mash  an'  shore, 

[78] 


11 


i 

ri 


yrenefyCanadiar\  Verse- 

^— — =j5p 


De  grey-dock  an'  de  mallarde, 
De're  knocking  at  your  door. 
De  black-bass  an'  de  dore 
De're  looking  for  de  bait, 
I  could  not  go  in  de  fall-tam — 
Some  odder  tarn-    I'll  wait. 


A 


I  would  not  die  in  winter-tam, 
Wen  de  snow  was  hon  de  ground, 
Wen  you  race  de  ponay  hon  de  hice, 
Wid'  de  habitant  all  around. 
Most  every  naight  som  soiree — 
You  dance  an'  sing  so  free — 
You  husk  de  corn  an  smoke  de  pipe, 
An'  spark  de  gal  till  wan,  two,  tree. 
De  snow  she's  fly  as  you  pass  by, 
Wid'  your  ponay  an  traineau, 
It'3  de  magnifique  ole  winter-tam — 
Dat's  no  good  tarn  to  go. 

Dees  life  shee's  pass  so  vere  fast, 

Down  in  dees  plaice  below, 

Dere's  hardly  tarn  to  turn  aroun' 

Before  you  have  to  go. 

Your  visit's  only  for  a  day, 

You  come,  you  breathe,  an'  you're  away. 

Joust  like  de  foolish  shad-fly. 

You  aint  got  long  to  stay. 

I  And  no  hour,  no  tam  to  go. 

In  dose  season  of  de  year, 

For  each  wan  ees  more  beautifule, 

An'  each  wan  is  more  dear. 


De  spring's  de  sun-rise  of  dat  day, 
De  summer  ees  de  noon, 
De  fall  ees  joust  de  twilight — 
De  naight  ees  coming  soon. 


^rtnei^-Canadiat]  Verso- 


Wen  winter  wid  her  snow  an'  hice, 
She  lays  de  shadow  hon  de  laight, 
Dat  day  of  life  down  here  below, 
Shee's  closing  softly  wid  de  naight. 
So  take  de  ioumey  eazay, 
Be  content  an'  satisfy, 
You'll  find  each  hour  de  best  to  live — - 
But  der's  no  good  tarn  to  die. 

I  hope  I'm  sleeping  an'  at  rest, 

Wen  Le  Bon  Dieu  geeves  de  call, 

I  hope  I'm  dreaming  of  de  best 

Wen  I  must  go —  dat's  all. 

I  hope  som  breeze  will  com  an  blow 

An'  find  me  as  I  lay, 

An'  lift  me  from  dees  plaice  below, 

An*  blow  me  far  away. 

An'  if  no  wan  will  wake  me, 

Maybe  I'll  reach  de  sky. 

Den  I'll  be  happy  an'  content — 

For  den  I  will  not  die. 


^..  ■  ■— <lffl~ 


'Jrirnc^CitnaJitit]  Verso-       % 


f« 


I 


mtmm 


#^# 


i-'^^"i 


